


Hunter's Bond

by Devils_Angel139



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Faclons, Low Fantasy, Modern Setting, Original Fiction, Role Reversal, Romance, Shapeshifting, Wolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23948200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devils_Angel139/pseuds/Devils_Angel139
Summary: Rescuing animals is a noble ideal, if only I realized the implications of saving a hunter. Now I find myself drawn into a world layered under my own: a world of magic and bonds. Not only must I keep a lethal secret, but my actions have earned the attention of others. People whose goals oppose my very own. Worse yet, I suspect someone close is working with them, perhaps closer than I want to believe.
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A story I've been working on and have finally decided to post. A crosspost from Wattpad. Please R&R

The sun was still high in the sky as I wandered through the woods. I’d traversed these overgrown paths many times before, for they were an extension of my backyard. Sunlight weaved its way down to the forest floor, redirected continuously by leaves or branches as it descended. The path before me was not one of my own construction, but forged by animals that lived within the woods. It was a familiar route, but I decided to follow it further than usual. I wanted to see what was beyond the bend Mom told me to never go beyond. The twig forged path wound around a hillside dense with plant growth. A viridescent clearing came into view as I rounded the bend. A gentle stream on the far side of the glade filled the otherwise silent air.

I bounded into the brilliant sunlight without a care, a grave mistake. A wolf with fangs bared entered the clearing from beyond the stream. The monstrous creature loomed over me. It stopped ten feet from me, hazel eyes leveled at me intently. I turned to flee from the wolf, only to find myself surrounded by equally towering wolves. I was trapped. Scared. My legs gave out beneath me in sheer terror. I was going to die, slain by monstrous wolves. Despite my beliefs, my captors made no effort to attack me. They growled and barked, but did nothing else.

A soft yip broke my attention from the dour wolves. A lone pup wagged its tail playfully before me. It yipped again, tail still wagging. The playful pup failed to alleviate my fear, but did win my focus. The animal dashed around me in circles then stopped in front of me. I didn’t move, mental paralysis locking me in place. The young wolf ran another loop. I still didn’t move. Slowly the pup approached me, tail ever wagging with excitement, and sat at my feet. The growls and barks ceased while the young wolf and I stared at each other. The pup yipped again, raising its hindquarters and stretching out its forelegs to touch the tip of my sneaker. The play bow and wagging tail amid the silence of the pup’s guardians eased the fear commanding me to freeze.

Reaching out with my hand, I offered a gentle greeting to the pup. The youngling bounded forward to sniff my outstretched arm, then licked it before running another circle around me, stopping a yard away in a play bow. She wanted me to chase her. Swallowing what remained of my fear, I walked after her so that her pack wouldn’t mistake me for attacking her. The pup bounded away whenever I was within one foot of her. Feeling confident I wasn’t going to be hunted, I began chasing the lupine, who always managed to stay just out of reach, through the clearing.

Time and again, I chased the pup around the clearing, stopping on multiple occasions to catch my breath. My playmate circled my feet during each break, woofing eagerly as a sign she wanted to play more. Round and round we circled until disaster struck. The pup stepped on a loose rock by the creek that yielded under her weight and speed. In slow motion, the young wolf fell into a shallow, if steep, ravine. I had to act. Heedless of my own safety, I dove for the pup to catch her before she fell out of reach.

Scraping electronic chirps bleated from my cell phone, its screen the only source of light. Fragments of that bizarre, reoccurring dream lingered in my mind despite the persistent wailing of my alarm. Today marked the third night in a row that vision played out in my sleep. The dream felt so real. So vivid. But the reality was that despite the dream taking place in the woods near my house, it couldn’t have been real. Wolves were long gone from New England, hunted and driven out over a century ago. The idea that wolves had returned to the region without any governmental approval or notice was highly unlikely. Combine that with the fact wolves wouldn’t approach humans so cordially, if at all, and my dream remained just that.

The alarm continued to wail with infantile demand for attention. “All right, all right,” I groused, tapping my phone’s screen to silence the digital cacophony. “I’m up,” sleep wore off slowly as I got out of bed. I counted on the shower waking me up completely, given my apparent weariness. Getting up at five in the morning was far from an issue, it was standard for me, but these past nights were plagued by that incredulous dream, and it kept me from sleeping well. Steam filled the bathroom as the hot water cascaded down my back. I wasn’t the sexiest guy in school, Michael Whitethorn held that honor if the ‘Mr. Westhaven’ pageant was anything to go by, but my hours of hiking kept me in shape. 5’9”, lithe, and likable enough to avoid pariah status. It was enough to get a girlfriend and to pass through high school without any significant incidents. Dressing in a green and red plaid button-up and jeans to fend off the chill of October mornings, I then made my way downstairs to start breakfast.

Bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast. A fairly standard breakfast by almost any account, but it was enough. Most of my classmates balked at the idea of making breakfast for their parents. They didn’t have a mother working as a nurse with an hour commute in the next town. As for my dad, well… I hadn’t seen the man in eight or so years since he divorced my mom and took my sister with him as a result of the custody battle. The divorce left a hole in Mom’s heart that never fully healed. She spent some nights crying herself to sleep. She thought I never knew, but I’ve always been a keen observer. Frankly, I didn’t give a damn if that asshole never showed his face around here ever again. Not that he’d made an attempt to connect with Mom or me, he’d been silent on that front.

My thoughts wandered from my family back to the recurrent dream while completing breakfast. Plates clattered on the wood table, patiently awaiting their load. I poured juice into plastic cups before distributing the prepared meal across the twin plates.

Six o’clock rolled around, and Mom was nowhere to be seen. I sighed. She was still sleeping, I couldn’t blame her. She came home and crashed after dinner last night from working a double shift. The hospital employed as close to the minimum number of workers as it could while still being able to operate as if every bed was full. Mom commented on that fact regularly.

The master bedroom door creaked in vehement protest, we still needed to replace the hinges, allowing light from the living room to flood into Mom’s bedroom. The light flowed to the foot of her bed, losing against the natural darkness of the curtains and deactivated lamps. “Come on, William,” Mom complained from beneath the slate bedsheets. “You promised I could sleep in.”

“I did,” I said while parting white curtains. Negligent rays of light crept over the top of the trees. Sunrise was still an hour away. Woodlands extended up and around the hill behind the house. Westhaven was more trees than people, fifteen hundred people, and god knows how many trees. “I let you sleep until six. You need to get up. I won’t re-heat your breakfast if you dawdle. You did ask for this after all,” I preferred not to threaten Mom with a cold breakfast, but it was one part of my toolkit to get her moving.

“Alright,” she caved, sitting up with her nightgown sliding down her shoulder. Auburn hair pointed in every direction possible, held up by vast quantities of static electricity or none at all. “I’m up,” Mom yawned. “I’ll get out of bed shortly. Don’t miss the bus, okay?”

“That’s not good enough,” I kicked the bed frame. “Get out of bed now, and take a shower.” Mom glared at me with emerald eyes, though the lethargy within them transformed the glare into a pout, before conceding to my demand and made for the bathroom. Satisfied that she wouldn’t dive back under the sheets, I returned to the kitchen to pack my bag for school. Fifteen minutes later, Mom bounded down the stairs and dug into a lukewarm breakfast, I had long since finished mine.

“Anything specific you need from the store?” she asked in-between bites. I passed her the list from the fridge. Mom smiled sheepishly before stuffing the note into a pocket. Even awake, she looked tired. Stress lines marked her forehead above eyes only half-open. Dark circles under those eyes underscored her exhaustion, they could have doubled as an overzealous application of makeup in the right light. A loose turtleneck and pajama pants did nothing to help, rather the opposite. A four day work week ended with Mom covering part of another nurse’s shift, for reasons unknown, resulting in a sixteen-hour shift.

“Please take it easy today,” I cautioned while taking a sip from my thermos. “You’re exhausted.” She shook her head.

“No can do. The girls want to head out to the city today for some fun. I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Just let someone else drive,” I acquiesced.

“I’m a good driver,” Mom replied flatly.

“Says the woman on the verge of collapsing into her breakfast.” She scowled at me.

“That’s not how a son talks about his mother.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” I muttered.

“William!”

“You’re breaking your back day in and day out for me. I can take care of some of the adulting. Just leave me with a credit card and I can get groceries after school,” Mom generally spurned pleas like mine, especially when they came from me. But she needed a break. I appreciated her for raising me all by herself, but I wasn’t some helpless pup. Mom’s deepening scowl told me that she was going to tell me off, but I couldn’t let her drive when she was this tired. _I guess I need to apply more pressure._ “You need to take care of yourself, and you can’t do that if you collapse at the grocer or behind the wheel. How will you care for me if you get hurt?” Her scolding demeanor persisted for brief minutes until giving way to an expression of somber defeat.

“You know I hate it when you guilt trip me,” Mom shoveled the last of her eggs into her mouth. I could only nod. I knew. After all, it was my greatest weapon to rein her in. She worked hard to provide for me. Too hard. She needed to have time for herself. Mom sighed, then offered me one of her sinister smiles. “Fine. Have it your way. Just don’t crash into a hydrant.”

“I won’t,” I saluted. “Promise,” I knew that smile. She was going to go behind my back to do what I didn’t want. I’m not letting you off that easy. “If you’ll excuse me,” I pointed to the stove clock behind me. “I must be going.”

“Why are you speaking so formally when you’re only going to—HEY!” Too late. I snagged the car keys from where they hung by the side door and bolted for the bus.

The bus rumbled along pocked pavement passing score after score of trees. Music from myriad country artists drowned out the chatter of the few others on the bus and most of the engine noise. Thirty minutes would pass as the bus wound down the streets of its route, picking up the students spread out across the district. We all knew each other despite the distance. That happens when there are only fifty students in your year. A buff male with short brown hair thumped into the seat next to me.

“‘Sup, Will,” the guy boomed with his outside voice.

“You don’t need to shout, David,” I winced.

“Sorry,” I shrugged, “I just wanted to make sure you heard me through your headphones. Anyways, I got a favor to ask you.” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“You want me to help you review for our chemistry exam today, right?” He nodded quietly. David wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. He didn’t take well to math or science, sports were his thing. The man’s poor aptitude didn’t stop him from applying himself in the same way David could with swimming. All he needed was a little help. I spent the rest of the bus ride reviewing key points of the material using our labs as a point of reference, David excelled when he could learn by doing.

Situated in the next town over, Gladewell High School was host to students grades six through twelve. That didn’t stop it from being a small school of five hundred students. The bus turned left onto the long cul-de-sac in front of the school loaded with other buses to drop us all off. One by one, we filed like the bored students we were, all eager to see our friends and not worry about what our classes had in store for us. David and I weaved through the congregating circles of bodies to our preferred pre-class hangout.

“Hey, Will,” a voice called out to us. “Giving David a crash course before the exam?”

“Of course, Claire,” I picked up my head from our notes to meet her lips. “Feel free to sit down and join us. You’re taking this exam as well.” The redhead plopped down next to me.

“I can’t say I need to study,” she snarked. “But, I am willing to help you and David review.”

“I could use the help,” David smiled appreciatively. I could use a brief refresher, and my girlfriend Claire was one of the smartest people in the school. How I won her affection was still beyond me despite dating her for a year. We powered through the fundamentals then covered several examples in detail. David and I parted ways with her, the bell denoting the immediate arrival of first period. Claire kissed my cheek softly before heading to her advanced placement English class while we made our way to Chemistry, at least we got the exam over and done with.

“Finally,” Claire cheered while stretching in her seat. The final bell had rung, and our classmates scrambled to their buses and cars to escape the monotony that plagued every school day. “This day couldn’t have been any longer. I know our date isn’t until eight, but do you want to hang out at my place then go to the movies?”

“Sorry,” I smiled sadly, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. “I would love to, but I need to take care of some business around the house before our date. Maybe another time.” Claire sighed in feigned insult.

“You and your maternal attitude,” she shook her head. “But that’s partly why I love you. Fine,” she kissed my cheek, “go and be an adult while the rest of us kids have fun.” With a bow, I left the classroom to navigate out to my bus. The thought of being an adult consumed my mind’s focus on the bus ride back. Adult… Claire used the term as an endearment of sorts while the rest of my class used it in idle jest. I simply saw it as being responsible. Groceries, laundry, housekeeping, all of that, and more went into the daily routine of maintaining a household and livelihood. My sociologist teacher from last year used the term ‘second shift’ for such work, work typically performed by women in many families. Perhaps it was the product of growing up in a single-parent household, but I’d been exposed to the work at an early age. She tried to hide it, but I saw how Mom struggled to work twelve-hour shifts, then turn around and do all the housework by herself. She broke down on more than one occasion. I started small by cleaning what I could, then took on more responsibility as I could manage it. Acquiring a driver’s license was a crucial moment for me as I could do any shopping for us on my own. Mom always made a point to thank me for my work, but she undersold her gratitude. I think she felt guilty that I was easing her burden, a ridiculous notion. We were family. Family helped each other. It was what family did.

The bus slowed to take a tight turn onto Mayview road, passing by the now foreclosed Richards' farmstead. Medical emergencies hit the family hard, and the state doesn’t care for people who can’t pay their medical debts on time or at all. Though, that is perhaps a byproduct of a society that considers the health insurance a privilege and suffering from preexisting conditions a right. The Richards' farmhouse, once a vibrant white but now weathered down to colorless wood in places, faded into the undergrowth threatening to consume it whole. A sole Ford truck left to languish, as no one could afford to restore it, in the dirt lot that served as a driveway despite snow and ice transforming it into a death trap each winter. The red barn that was a point of pride for the family verged on utter collapse from disrepair. Tree branches lay in shattered windows from the occasional windstorm that shredded the forestry, risking damage to nearly every building in town. A tree crushed part of the roof but lacked the strength to bring it down entirely. _What a pity._ Westhaven wasn’t in danger of becoming a ghost town. Still, it lacked the ability to grow beyond what it already was. An animal suddenly poked its head out from an open barn window. _Impossible._

Grey fur coated every facet of the animal’s head, two pointed ears ever alert at its crown. Following the head revealed a tapered face with a black muzzle. Grey eyes locked with mine. _It’s a wolf. How? Had a pack decided to move into the area?_ The wolf maintained eye contact as the bus completed its turn. I couldn’t say why, but the jubilance with those grey eyes struck a chord with me. It was familiar. The wolf was familiar. Nothing about this sighting made any sense. The bus lurched right as it turned onto another road, the sudden turn pressing me into its window in comical fashion. The predator disappeared out of sight with the Richards' barn. I sagged into the hard faux leather seat, content to contemplate the impossibility of what I’d just seen. Wolves? Here? In Massachusetts? A heavy sigh escaped my lips. _I think this recurring dream is getting to me. I’m seeing parts of it in real life._

The bus rolled to a stop at the edge of the driveway, hustling away once I vacated the vehicle. The image of the wolf played through my mind again and again. It seemed so real in that barn, but the more I thought about it, the less it made sense. Not a single wolf had been spotted in this region in years, decades. I supposed the government might have been reintroducing them to this region, but that would surely have been accompanied by a public notice. I couldn’t convince myself what I saw was an illusion, nor could I convince myself it wasn’t real. “Only one way to find out, I guess,” I mused openly. Mom was out with friends and wouldn’t be back for several hours. I had plenty of time to explore the Richards' barn and shop for groceries before she’d be back. Dropping my backpack off in the kitchen and snagging the credit card left on the dining table, I hopped into the Toyota SUV parked in the garage and back to where I saw the wolf.


	2. Chapter 2

The wind fell silent as I pulled into the Richards’ farmstead, the rust ate further into the Ford as the side panels were now rotting away from the unstopping lord of time. A pristine real estate sign planted in the yard before the farmhouse was the only indication of recent activity on the otherwise lifeless lot, a replacement for the fading sign wanting a nonexistent buyer. Everything looked the same as I’d seen it from the bus, fields overgrown with underbrush peered over the hill’s crest behind the crumbling barn and farmhouse overrun with vines and weeds. My gaze circled around the SUV, rumbling softly in idle, searching for the wolf. Nothing moved. Butterflies danced about in my stomach to a rapid, wary tune, but their antics failed to create any retreating impulse. I needed to see if what I saw was real. Swallowing my concern, I stepped out of the SUV and crept toward the dilapidated barn, the car door breaking the dead silence of the lot.

If the wolf, or anything else for that matter, was here, it made no effort to make itself known. Birds. Small animals. Wind. Nothing ushered in a wisp of sound. Weeds brushed my jeans in long strides as I approached the roadside face of the browning structure, its beams creaking from a sudden gust. My chest tightened as I reached the shattered window from where the hunter watched. Leaning against the barn wall to catch my breath, its wall taking my weight in stride, I reconsidered the value of this endeavor.  _ At best, there is nothing to see. At worst, I find a wolf, and it mauls me to death before I can reach the car.  _ The worst-case scenario should have been enough to deter me, or any sane person, from looking, but I just had to know for sure. I took one more deep breath and peered into the derelict farm building. 

Layer upon layer of dust covered the workbench on the other side of the wall, tools rested where they were last used. The loft, once serving as our regular hideout, had collapsed, scattering wood and metal about the stalls that once held horses. A wood-fueled stove poked its empty stomach out from panels rife with soot. Dust and more dust, but no wolf. Nothing. Not even paw prints. The breath I’d held finally found freedom.  _ My mind was just playing a dumb trick. _

“I doubt there is anything worth stealing in there,” an older male called from behind me. A graying beard followed the contours of a weathered chin up an aging face. Tired eyes brimming with curiosity focused solely on me as the man smiled. Brown hair receding from his forehead bore numerous streaks of gray. Fading camouflage pants and a jacket weary with use sheltered a stocky frame from the crisp air. “Surprised?” He asked, letting out a hearty laugh. “You must be after jumping a foot in the air,” the grizzled hunter shook a meaty finger at me. “Well, I’ll be damned,” a broad smile lit the man’s face. “You’re William Hunter.”

“Are you…” a pang of memory flickered in my mind as I stood from the windowsill, “Waylen Richards?” The man nodded. “What are you doing here?”

“I haven't seen you since before the foreclosure,” Waylen laughed. “I just happened to be passing through and thought I’d stop by and see what happened to the old homestead,” Waylen cast a long gaze over his old home. He pulled his musty leather coat further up his shoulders before turning back to me. “Can’t say I was expecting to see you here, William. What brings you back here? Reminiscing about old times?” I shook my head.

“I thought I saw something moving about in the barn when I was on my way home from school and decided to check it out,” I answered while moving out of the underbrush toward him. I withheld what I sought, saying that just would have made me seem crazy.

“I’m not sure you’ll find any wildlife in that ramshackle hut,” Waylen winked. “Unless you plan on hunting beasts.”

“Beasts?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t mean wild animals?”

“Because I’m not talking about animals, William,” the older man cast a gaze over the surrounding woods. “I speak of the monsters that haunt humanity. The ones lurking in the dark corners of the world preying on innocent life,” Waylen turned back to me with a shake of his head. “But listen to me, rambling on like the old man I am. You’ve grown into a fine young man, Will,” the aged hunter studied every facet of me he could see and touch. “I hardly recognized you. It’s been what, eight years since we last saw each other?”

“Something like that,” I said flatly, pulling away from the touchy man.  _ He’s still as strange as ever. _ “Speaking of eight years, how are Max and Lucene?” the question halted Waylen’s movement, grasping fingers falling to his side. The opportune listlessness carved open a window for my feet to dart away from Waylen’s slithering grasp. 

“Of course you didn’t hear,” Waylen shook his head, gaze glued to the earth, before rising to meet mine, droplets primed to cascade. “Max died in a hunting accident last year.” Ice bound my legs in place, forcing a chill up my spine.

“What?” my lungs rattled in their cage with the exhalation of my single worded question. “You must be joking.”

“How I wish I was,” Waylen sighed, resting a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I recall you two were basically brothers.”

“What about Lucene?” I asked, brushing off his unyielding grip. “Does she know?”

“She knows,” Waylen said. A creaking nod served as my acknowledgment.

“I see,” a pregnant silence fell between us. “I need to get going,” frozen legs, now free of their bonds, moved toward the car with an uneven gait. Hands fumbled with the door handle before succeeding on the third try. “Do you need a ride into town?” I called over the open door. “I can give you a lift.”

“Don’t worry about me, William,” Waylen waved off. “I am meeting someone here to see about purchasing the estate,” he shooed me away with both hands. “Go about your business. I’ll pass word along to Lucene you’re thinking of her.”

“Thanks, Waylen,” I nodded. The SUV thundered over the unspeaking forest, interrupting an unspoken eulogy for the recently deceased.

“Waylen Richards is in town?” Claire asked while ringing up my groceries. “And his nephew is dead? And he’s looking to buy the homestead?”

“Apparently,” I shrugged. “Waylen certainly seems to be taking the death hard.” My encounter with Waylen lingered in my mind as I perused the supermarket’s aisles for the week’s groceries. His labeling of beasts as something far more dangerous than wild animals nagged at me the entire shopping trip. _ Just what was he talking about? _ Animals didn’t have special powers, that was in the realms of myth, religion, and fantasy. Reality lacked everything he raved at me about. Perhaps the loss of the family farm and Max’s death took a toll on the man’s psyche. I had no way of knowing what help he truly needed, nor if he would accept any help. Waylen was a loner that spent more time hunting in the woods than in town. “Could you pass word to your dad about them? I think Waylen could use a heartfelt prayer.”

“I’ll tell my dad to get in touch with him. Did you tell him about the wolf?” my girlfriend inquired. “You’re total is one hundred and fifty-three dollars and twenty-three cents.” I shook my head.

“No. I didn’t find it, so I saw no reason to give that hunter a reason to traipse off into the woods. I don't want him finding something that may be the only one of its kind in the region. Granted, this is assuming I wasn’t seeing things,” I threw Claire a curious look. “Is our date still on? Or were you called in for a full shift?”

“Sorry, Will,” she gave me an apologetic look. “The store is suddenly short-handed on account of people looking to go out and party tonight instead of working. So I’m stuck here working instead of our date. Raincheck?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. I was counting on my date to clear my mind of the weirdness of the day. But there was no getting her out now that she was in for a full shift.  _ What is the value of underage drinking? _ “How about next weekend?” I asked. “If I recall, you’re busy with family the rest of the weekend, right?”

“Yeah, three birthdays,” Claire groused while processing my payment before turning back to me to hand me my receipt, eyes looking past me. “I’ll take a look at my schedule and let you know if next weekend works for me. Sound good?”

“…Yeah,” I turned to follow her gaze. Three registers lacking cashiers and the store exit were the only things there, not even a passing customer exiting the store. “Is something wrong?” My girlfriend laughed faintly, it was that fake laugh she did when something was wrong.

“No,” she chirped curtly.

“Claire,” I admonished.

“What?” she barked.

“You’ve been doing this for a while now,” I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Doing  _ what _ exactly?” The hostility veiled in her previous emerged from its shadows.

“Looking past me when talking to me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she beckoned to a customer looking for an open register.

“If I’ve done something wrong—” a sudden slam cut off my line of inquiry. Claire threw piercing glare at me, knocking me back into the station behind me. Air caught in my lungs under the unwanted pressure.

“Not now, Will,” Claire spat under her breath, hands digging into the metal and plastic of her workstation.

“Alright,” I acquiesced. “But can you promise me we’ll—”

“NOT! NOW!” Every muscle went rigid, her paralytic shout glued my back to the station it rammed into. Hazel eyes bored into the depths of my soul, daring me to defy Claire’s ultimatum. Wide eyes and open mouth melted into a sullen and wounded frown. Whispers circulated through the watching rumormongers seeking their next juicy morsel to create an outlandish story.

Offering a nod powered by the smallest of motions, I pushed the loaded cart back to the car, suppressing what irritating mist I could. 

Thoughts about my relationship with Claire followed me home and well through the night. Did I do something wrong? Was she just not in a talking mood? Did she secretly hate me and was now going to set me up for a harrowing fall? Too many wild questions based on evidence that could point to any number of realities ran through my mind. One niggling concept drove the concerns battering my perception of our relationship.  _ What have I done wrong?  _ The specter of Claire’s hostility haunted every page turn of my homework, pulling my progress to a crawl.

“Is something the matter, William?” my mom placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m fine,” I answered, folding my laptop with a slap fueled by a startled jump. “I’m surprised you’re home. It’s only six. Did something happen?” Mom shook her head.

“My friends told me to go home and rest. Apparently, you aren’t the only one who can see how exhausted I am.” At least her friends had the sensibility to tell the weary to rest.

“Then I shall start dinner,” I said, roused to action if only to evade my nagging woe. My redheaded mother cleared the table as I set about preparing the ingredients for soup. Chicken, celery, carrots, and onions formed the center of the soup recipe I was taught.

“By the way,” Mom resumed conversation once we sat down to eat. “Don’t you have a field trip this Friday?” I gave her a puzzled look.

“Field trip? I don’t recall having a—” the field trip to the Westhaven police department reappeared in my memory after a sudden absence. “Right. Yes. I do. We’re touring the police department.”

“I thought you were going to a prison to interview inmates,” my mother asked, eyes narrowed at the inconsistency.

“We were,” I took a long drought of broth before continuing. “But someone’s parent threw a tantrum about that being too dangerous, and the school caved to the rant. So Mr. Wright had to come up with something else last minute.” Auburn curls shifted in disappointment.

“That’s a shame,” Mom continued to nurse her soup. “I thought the prison trip would be a good way to broaden your horizons while giving you an example of what your life could become should you break the law.”

“Whatever the case,” I shrugged. “We won’t be going.” 

“At least your teacher was able to come up with an alternative trip. Changing topics, have you thought about college any more?”

“Not yet,” I answered. “I still don't know what I want to do with my life, Mom.”

“Veterinary work would suit you,” she suggested. “You have a soft spot for animals.”

“While I did enjoy myself when volunteering for animal rescue,” I conceded, delaying my full answer with the rest of my dinner. “I do not want to spend ten years studying.”

“You’ll be studying for years no matter what you decide—”

“It’s just a matter of deciding what I want to study,” I completed the phrase she kicked off every academic lecture she gave. “I’ll reach a decision in time, Mom.”

“Very well,” she yawned. “I think I’ll turn in early. Good night, Will.”

The vibrant rustling of leaves rolled through the open window, brisk autumn air accompanying the contiguous echo. A single car traveled down the road, passing my house by for some other destination. I lied silently on my bed, enjoying the natural sounds of Westhaven. Worries, fears, concerns, all washed away before the dulcet symphony of the night. There was much to do before the field trip. School. Homework. Housework. Then there was the hike David and I were going to do on Wednesday. A faint howl carried on the wind brought me upright in an instant. I listened intently for a second howl. No answer. I continued to wait. Nothing answered the call.

“Unbelievable,” I shook my head. “Here I am, still fixated on that ghost of a wolf I saw from the bus. That dream must be getting to me,” setting an alarm for the morning, I undressed and slid under the sheets. I hoped sleep and the coming week to excise that nagging image out of my head.

“Welcome everyone,” Police Chief Andrews beckoned to us as students vacated the bus. “Welcome to the Westhaven Police Station,” Andrews wore a clean navy police uniform with fresh creases as if worn for the first time. This field trip was apparently enough to warrant him maintaining appearances. The uniform plus his bald scalp left him looking like a stereotypical cop from any action movie of the past decade. A fact all of us noted, and a few even snickered about. Mr. Wright, our teacher for the elective  _ Justice I _ , shushed a chortling trio before thanking Andrews for allowing us to visit on such short notice.

A tour of the local police department moved the class of ten toward somnolence and boredom, a fact reinforced by half the class doing whatever they could to pick up even one bar of reception on their phones. I found myself yawning through Chief Andrews’ speech. I heard it once in fifth grade, nothing changed since then.

“What do you have planned for us, Chief Andrews?” Mr. Wright asked.

“I thought we would start with a tour of the station,” the bald cop smiled brightly. “From there, I thought we could give the kids a ride around in the cruisers.”

“Do we get to drive the cars?” Michael Whitethorn asked with all his usual gung-ho bravado. Several of our classmates rallied behind the lacrosse team captain’s question.

“No chance of that,” Chief Andrews’ expression turned sour. “You’re already being given a luxury. Do not spoil it for your classmates,” Andrews never took shit from anyone, something I liked about him despite his lackadaisical approach to law enforcement. Michael lived in a different town, and his lack of experience dealing with someone who would stand up to him showed. The bully clenched a fist behind his back, his team jacket rustling with every motion. I didn’t want this trip to end in disaster, but I also hoped that Andrews needed to put Michael in his place.

“Come on, Michael,” Zoe, Michael’s most recent girlfriend, chirped endearingly. “Maybe we can see the wolf being held here.” Michael pulled her close with a lascivious smirk. My eyebrow rose in curiosity and incredulity.

“Wolf?” I asked, for myself and the rest of my class. “What are you talking about?”

“You hadn’t heard, Will?” Zoe responded with false charm, which really meant ‘how the fuck didn’t you know this?’ “Animal Control captured a wolf near Druther Circle last night, which means it's being held here until someone puts it down.” Zoe was the only other person in  _ Justice I _ that lived in Westhaven. Her mother ran a local diner and thus had access to all news fresh off the rumor mill. This was the first I’d heard of a wolf being captured by the authorities, leaving me disinclined to believe the rumor given the lack of other sources. Then again, perhaps my eyes hadn’t played a trick on me after all. Maybe I did see a wolf. Something like that should have made headlines in our quaint little piece of backwater whether or not it was true. Even if it was just a false rumor, Zoe touting it as fact was par for the course. So a healthy grain a salt was a safe bet when listening to her.

“Or released in a region safer for it,” I added. “They might also tag it before setting it free to see if it’s the only one or if there are more moving back into Massachusetts.”

“Just because the pound is adjacent to the department doesn’t mean there is anything you kids need to see,” Andrews evaded. “Now then,” he clapped, “let’s begin our tour.” Mr. Wright pushed my class along to follow Chief Andrews, nine students groaning or dragging their feet. I didn’t move at first. My mind wandered back to the wolf I thought I saw on the bus.  _ There’s no way. That wasn’t real. _

__ “Are you all right, William?” Mr. Wright asked, eyes lightly loaded with concern. I waved my thoughts off.

“I’m fine. I’m just spacing out.” Mr. Wright nodded

“I know this isn’t what you were looking for in this field trip,” he sighed, “so consider it a reprieve from keeping these kids in line.”

“Understood, Mr. Wright,” my teacher carded a hand through his gelled back hair while smiling at me sheepishly. He then forged ahead to perform his shepherding duty. I followed behind in close proximity.

I may have enjoyed this field trip when I first experienced it. But now it was merely droll. From dispatch to locker rooms to the fitness center, we moved. Andrews gave one monotonous mini-lecture after the next. Michael looked as bored as I was, though I was sure our minds were in different places. His was focused on Zoe’s lower half, wandering eyes betraying his salacious wants. If she was at all bothered by it, her blue eyes revealed no discomfort. Mine was on the wolf. His girlfriend’s words lingered in my mind, ever nagging at my conscience.  _ What if there really was a wolf held here? Would they release it, or would they just put it down?  _ If there was a wolf, then there was a chance that it would be put down. Small-minded town, small-minded solutions. A distracted sigh escaped my lips. This wasn’t my problem. It was in my best interest to ignore what she said and focus on the activity at hand. But I couldn’t. As fate would have it, or wanted it, a golden opportunity rose to the occasion.

“What do you mean we can’t use the firing range?” The arrogant senior groused. “What tour would be complete without that?”

“Just because you think you’re a big shot doesn’t mean you can do what you want,” Chief Andrews asserted. The school bully scowled at the police chief, resenting the cop more by the minute. Mr. Wright kept himself out of the fight. The faint smile on his lips suggested that he almost expected this. Our teacher was a good man, but too soft to be able to discipline Micheal, a problem the school itself refused to treat. The instigation slowly grew. The ensuing explosion would be worth watching, but better served as a diversion. Using Michael’s raucous conflict with Andrews as cover, I slinked away and made straight for the pound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Please R&R -DA139


	3. Chapter 3

One of the luxuries of living in a small town was that even government facilities possessed few personnel to avoid. Not a soul was in sight during the short trek to the kennel. Animal control employed less staff than law enforcement, and they even had a vacancy in its workforce. The pound was in the building adjacent to the police department separated by a loading dock. Minutes after I departed from the tour, I was in animal control and closing in on the pound’s kennel. If it wasn’t for the unlocked doors, I could have assumed that no one was working today. Not a sound save my sneakers pattered against the tile floor. Barking was quite common in the pound as stray dogs, and unruly pets argued within the kennel, but not today. It was dead silent. _Where are the impounded animals? Surely not all of them have been put down._

The heavy steel door to the kennel swung open to an empty sight. Cage on top of cage lined both walls of the kennel. All of them empty. A single window behind a wooden desk. Overlooked the woods beyond the government facilities. Even the large cages beyond the desk lay desolate, save for one. _Holy shit. She was right._ Tucked into the corner, the last large cage held a large canine covered in gray hair. It was a wolf. Slate gray fur with streaks of brown and white ran down the animal’s coat. The predator picked its head up as I entered the room, eyes watching me intently.

“I don’t believe it,” the words a mere whisper on my lips. “She was right.” Never in my life did I imagine that I’d be able to reach such close proximity to a wolf without risking harm or death. Slowly I crept ever closer to the imprisoned animal, its eyes never shifting from me. Butterflies raced up and down my stomach with more and more excitement building with each step. This was crazy, but I’d never get another opportunity to do this. I stopped a foot before the cage and knelt to get a better look at the hunter. Pristine fur unmarred by any sort of violence save for minor flecks of dirt showed no signs of damage from its encounter with Animal Control.

We studied each other in quiet contemplation, the wolf with its nose and me with my eyes. The wolf’s eyes, a beautiful slate gray, never deviated in their gaze. A smile tugged at my lips with a sudden realization. I _had_ seen a wolf. This one was the wolf from the Richards’ estate.

“You are magnificent,” I whispered through my smile. The wolf stood and started wagging her tail fervently as if she understood me. Its stoic eyes suddenly brimming with joy took me in with a different intensity than the dutiful study from before. Feeling emboldened by the hunter’s gentle demeanor, I pressed a hand to the cage. An ignored voice in my mind shouted at me to retract my hand that extending it to a wolf would end in disaster. The victorious voice told me that I was safe and that this wolf wouldn’t hurt me using an alien familiarity as its reference. The caged predator sniffed my hand then ran its tongue across my fingers before nudging at the cage door.

A lock rattled against the cage door. The steel padlock shifted upward with each attempt the wolf made to break free before returning to its resting place. The wolf tried time and again to force its way out. For a minute, I merely watched. _Should I help?_ Releasing a captive animal… Another bad idea. But maybe not the worst one. Something told me that this prisoner meant no harm. Freedom was all it wanted. Freedom was what it needed. The padlock wouldn’t yield under the wolf’s attempts at breaking out anytime soon. We’d need something else, preferably a key, to open the cage. _Is there anything in here I could use?_ The kennel's sole desk presented itself as a location with nothing of worth, but I had nowhere else to start.

Papers strewn about the desk held no information of value to my current predicament. Most were reports regarding stray and unruly dogs from over the years shuffled about with no rhyme or reason to their placement.

“God, this desk is a mess,” I groused. Paper on top of paper created three interlocking layers of unhelpful reports that I couldn’t let stay as it was. Sorting the paperwork into three stacks based on year, I continued searching for a key while straightening the clutter left behind by animal control. “Even Mom isn’t this bad.”

Something brushed along my leg before clattering to the ground with a metallic clink. Glancing around the packet of papers in my hand, I found a single key laying by my sneaker. If I was lucky, it would be the key I needed. It was. A single click from the padlock after I turned the key denoted the lock’s release. The wolf watched me silently while I removed the lock and opened the cage. The steel lattice door swung open, allowing for the prisoner to surge forward and bull rush me to the ground. The wolf’s tail continued to flail about jubilantly, nudging its head into my chest.

“Whoa. Easy there,” I said as the hunter continued to shower me with affection. My hands reached out and sub-consciously scratched behind the wolf’s ears and under the base of its jaw. The hunter ceased rubbing its head at my torso in response to my pointed stroking of its fur, though the wolf’s tail continued to wag in enjoyment. Our pleasant interaction continued for a few moments before my hands slowly ceased their movement. This interaction was familiar. I’d done this before, but with whom? Someone’s dog? No, the only one I knew who owned a dog was Michael Whitethorn; we were not friends in the slightest. Another animal? No. I enjoyed the outdoors and had gone camping on numerous occasions, but I never initiated any form of playful connection with any of the animals I saw. Did I do this with another wolf? Nope. There were no wolves in Massachusetts. Not anymore, anyways. _Then why does this feel so familiar?_ A soft whine broke me from my phantom memory.

The wolf cocked its head at me as if worried about my well being, slate eyes watching me with equal worry while ever monitoring the door. “Don’t worry about me,” I smiled at my companion, stroking its fur. “You’ve just awoken a memory of mine. I don’t know why, but our interaction is familiar like I’ve done this before.” The wolf said nothing, not that it could have said anything, but gave the appearance of providing me with its undivided attention and, maybe, understanding. A faint sigh escaped my lips. “Thank you for trying to listen,” the reality of my company being unable to understand darkened my smile, “but you don’t understand me, do you?”

Sudden chatter echoed into the kennel from beyond the door I left ajar. My classmates were fast approaching with the chief in tow. My companion heard the voices as well, its ears alert and focused on the door. Someone would surely notice the door wasn’t closed, it would be the perfect invitation for Michael to waltz in and do something stupid. If the wolf didn’t leave now… the wolf needed to leave now. Blitzing up from my seated position, I thrust the window open and moved the chair to allow the wolf to climb up. The hunter bounded up onto the table with powerful legs, a feat that sent me back a few steps as it squeezed past me as I adjusted the chair.

“Time for you to go,” I whispered. I didn’t want the wolf to go. It was so gentle, to the point where it may have actually been a wolf/dog hybrid. The predator seemed to share my sentiment. The wolf’s eyes lingered on me with a seemingly watery gaze, or the water was in my own eyes. She, I decided to call the wolf she, after silently wondering the animal’s sex, pointed her tapered nose toward my left hand as if wanting me to scratch more. “I don’t have time for this,” yet I complied all the same. My companion lifted her head in anticipation of the affection. I could only afford to scratch her neck for a few precious moments. The wolf needed to flee before we were caught. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” The hunter still appeared transfixed on my hand, for whatever reason. I held my hand palm up before her nose, letting her sniff it once more. I wanted to stay longer, I wanted to know what it was she desired from me. It was clear now she wasn’t a typical wolf, but something more. “If only we could have more time together,” I shook my head. “Goddammit, William, you can’t take her home.”

My curse brought out a shift in the wolf’s disposition. Her tail rose up slightly as her breathing slowed. Was she anticipating something? There was no way she could have understood me, so what was wrong? I soon had my answer. The wolf bit down on my wrist. Hard. Pointed fangs dug into my skin, piercing layer after layer before reaching the veins beneath. Air caught in my lungs in shock, free hand flying to cover my mouth. The voices of my classmates amplified under their continued approach. Soon enough, I’d be in a lot of trouble. At least the trouble would save me from being mauled. Hopefully. Despite the predator’s deliberate attack, she made no movement, no follow-up to the throat, nor any attempt to flee. Neither of us moved, locked in place for a slow, yet ever-growing, eternity, bound by blood and fang.

Indiscernible forces passed through our connection. Something flowed from me into the wolf, and something from her flowed into me. Nerves continued to fire off signals of pain and agony, but the warning given by my body was contradicted by sensation flowing into me. Tender warmth passed from the wolf to me. Yes, the bite hurt, but she didn't want it to hurt. I couldn't explain why, but there was something more to what she was doing. A Connection. A Promise. A Memory. A bond and more. The pain accompanying the bite disappeared the instant the wolf released her grip on my hand, gentle warmth soothed away whatever discomfort insisted on clinging to me. Blood dripped in a creeping cascade from the bores in my wrist.

The wolf turned away from me and left without a word, shearing the window screen in twain without a fraction of effort. Further and further, the hunter ran and disappeared into the underbrush and the wilderness beyond. Whatever questions I had would remain unanswered. The only person who could explain up and left me. _What just happened? Why did she bite me?_

“Aw, come on, Chief,” Michael’s voice rang in the hall. “What’s the harm if they’re in cages?” Short-circuiting forced my brain into a hard reboot as the reality of my situation, or perhaps more importantly, how much trouble I was in, struck. My eyes darted from one cage to the next, one corner after another, in the vain hope that I would find a place to hide. No such luck. Michael pushed open the kennel door open to its fullest, the rest of the class eagerly pushing each other to catch a glimpse of the wolf that was long gone. My class’ eager curiosity faded away into confusion as I stood before them in lieu of what they wanted. A few even looked to the back of the crowd, expecting me to be where I usually stood, then turned back to me utterly baffled to see me here. Mr. Wright wore an expression that was equal parts bewilderment and displeasure. Chief Andrews, on the other hand, was too preoccupied with the open cage to bother with me, summoning animal control first and foremost. Michael was the last to see me. He was more preoccupied with earning the attention of winning the awe of the class for showing them what was rumored to be here. He finally turned to face me once he realized our classmates did not praise him like he expected and desired.

“The hell are you doing here?” The blonde jock interrogated. My brain continued to short circuit, precluding any answer I could or want to give. “You trying to free the wolf, Nature Boy?”

“No wolves here,” I shook my head, brain functioning once again. “Just a rabid dog.”

“One that is now free, I might add,” Mr. Wright scowled. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“I’m not sure Mr. Hunter is responsible for this,” Chief Andrews pushed his way past the gawking students, and myself, to the cage that once held the wolf. He scanned the pen and the floor beneath and around it. The police chief bent down, reaching for something as moved before turning to me with palm outstretched toward the crowd. “The dog must have broken out of its cage, attacked Mr. Hunter, then fled through the window left open by one of my careless associates.”

“Don’t cover for him, Chief Andrews,” Mr. Wright groused. “That sets a poor example.”

“So, you would assume that Mr. Hunter here broke the lock with his bare hands?” The buff officer asked. “Yes, this lock is rusted beyond belief, but that doesn’t mean he broke it.” _Rusted?_ The lock held by Chief Andrews was indeed rusted. Orange-brown corrosion wove around the loop and buried into the keyhole. The loop’s rust rotted through most of the metal, and the rest was bent out of shape by force, quite possibly as a result of someone forcing a door open. The key I used to open said lock was still in the lock, but the rust claimed it as well. It was a rather convenient cover for me, but one that shouldn’t have existed. The lock and key were both in pristine condition when I freed the wolf. Why were the lock and key beyond repair or use now? I certainly didn’t do anything to that.

“Jesus Christ, Will,” Zoe exclaimed, grabbing everyone’s attention from Andrews. “What happened to your hand?” Blood continued to flow from the puncture wounds on my wrist in delicate contrails. The brilliant crimson droplets descended from my fingers, creating minuscule puddles on the tile and grout.

“The dog attacked me after it broke free,” I shrugged.

“That still leaves the question of why you were here unanswered,” Mr. Wright scowled.

“That will have to wait,” Andrews interjected, dropping the corroded lock into a plastic bag. “He needs medical attention first.”

“Thanks for wrecking the field trip, Nature Boy,” Michael snarled quietly as Andrews escorted me out of the kennel. In hindsight, perhaps I should have let the wolf attack Michael. Maybe then any infection I might have contracted would have knocked him down a peg or two.

“Of all the careless things you could have done,” Mom muttered in disbelief as she administered a shot to my arm. “Wandering off into the woods, I can understand. But wandering off during a field trip? Now you’ve been bitten by some rabid dog.” Auburn hair swung left and right with each shake of her head. “At least I can ensure you won’t die from your stupidity.” All I could do was hang my head. I didn’t regret my decision. But seeing my mother glare at me with disapproval brought an onslaught of guilt, forcing the dam holding back a tide of tears to struggle. Mom sighed heavily, discarding the used syringe into the red receptacle on the wall. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“No,” I retorted despondently. I didn’t want to tell her about the wolf, no matter how much it hurt to contain the truth. The police had long since taken my statement, emergency services bandaged the damage left by the bite. Mr. Wright took the class back to school and reported the incident to Principal Wallace. The rotund overseer made a point to collect my statement at the hospital. The man’s graying and receding hair took shelter under the principal’s prized sable fedora, an article he never removed unless absolutely necessary. I told him the same story I gave the police. I was bored by the notion of touring a police station I’d seen before and passed by even more often. I ducked away from the class to explore the grounds beyond the compound when a sudden growl caught my attention. A dog held in the pound broke free from its cage and attacked me. I struck it in the head, forcing it to flee through the open window. Principal Wallace seemed content to believe my story at face value and leave it at that. My only punishment from school was a two-week suspension. My mother was less forgiving.

She grounded me for a month at least, thus shredding my plans for a date with Claire after the field trip, and saw it fit to lecture me on the dangers of wild animals. “How many times must I tell you that animals are dangerous?” Mom looked at me with a disheartened frown.

“I can take care of myself,” I muttered.

“That’s clearly not the case,” she spat while standing. “A rabid dog sunk its teeth into you. You should be grateful that I insist on using life-saving vaccines. Rabies is lethal in humans. Do I need to remind you of that?” I said nothing. Mom didn’t need to remind me. But not being able to share the truth dragged this scolding out. I didn’t want to listen to her tell me what I should have done. I knew the risks when I opened the cage. Just because the dice didn’t land in my favor didn’t mean I was careless, though what I did _was_ careless. _Goddammit._ “I worried about you working with rescue animals at the shelter, but I thought you smart enough to protect yourself.”

Any words I could have, would have, or should have said caught in my throat and refused to be spoken. I wanted to defend my actions. But that meant I would need to correct the veracity of my statement to the police, expose the wolf and potentially subject myself to a criminal charge. The best I could do, for myself and her, was to stick to my story and endure the anger of the one person I did not want to upset. Mom and I exited the hospital in total silence. The first of several visits for me as the rabies vaccine was administered in multiple doses over two weeks. Silence filled the space between us as we made our way home, a more welcoming companion than each other. No words were exchanged while the car wound down the country roads. The tension so great we couldn’t even stand to look at each other.

“What would you like for dinner?” Mom asked as she stepped out of the car.

“I’m not hungry,” I answered. I didn’t want, couldn’t, be around my mother right now. “I’ll eat later.” If she said anything after her question, I didn’t listen. I wanted to be alone. The safe haven where I could hide expressing whatever emotion I wanted. I never was really allowed to express any sort of emotional vulnerability in public. I was always told me to ‘man up’ whenever I dared show weakness of any kind. They said it wasn’t right for me and wouldn’t talk to me further unless I did as they said. My classmates weren’t any better, favoring calling such displays ‘girlie’ and whatever it is that young men call doing things that aren’t seen as masculine. Claire avoided allowing me to open up as well. She didn’t want to date a guy who came across as soft. I liked her, so I put up with sealing away any feeling that I felt she wouldn’t want to see. My bedroom was the only place I could vent anger, cry out my sorrows. I was angry Michael caught me in the pound, I was upset my mom deemed it proper to scold me for taking an action I felt was right.

The sound of leaves rustling on the wind flew in through the windows I thrusted open upon entering my room. The woodland air washed over my bedroom, bringing a sliver of comfort from the soothing sounds and scents. I didn’t know if I wanted to scream or cry. I freed a wolf from its prison and was bitten in return. My class blamed me for cutting short a field trip they found droll, and I earned my mother’s disappointment. I still believed that freeing the predator was the right course of action, but it certainly felt like it wasn’t. A spherical stuffed calico cat designed to be squished peered out from the closet. Felix, as I named him, had been a gift from my mother, an apology for the divorce, or so I assumed. He was a welcome comfort in times like this when I couldn’t lean on anyone, no matter who much I wanted.

“Where did I go wrong, Felix?” I asked the stuffed animal full, knowing I wouldn’t get an answer. “Was freeing her the wrong decision?” My silent companion would never answer those questions, but he was always ready to listen, which was what I needed. I never left my room for the rest of the night. My appetite was utterly shot by my roiling emotions and fell asleep with my soft companion in my arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Hey everyone, I just want to extend a quick thank you for reading along. I appreciate you all giving this story a chance. Please stay safe through these difficult, or perhaps aggravating, times.


	4. Chapter 4

Suspension from school wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Claire was busy with family events for the next few weeks, so I didn’t need to worry about rescheduling the date that had already been postponed. I could still go outside despite being grounded as Mom knew she had no means of keeping me in the house, so she didn’t bother to forbid my travels. The only noticeable downsides were that I couldn’t see any of my friends, and I was falling behind on my school work by not being at school. Long hikes filled my time when I wasn’t dragged off to the hospital for the subsequent shots for the rabies vaccine, each personally delivered by my mother. It would be another week before I got the last one required.

The bite marks healed remarkably quickly all things considered. The injury vanished from sight completely three days after being bitten, much to everyone’s surprise, but there seemed to be a side effect. I didn’t say anything to anyone, but my senses seemed to slowly sharpen. Shades of color had become more distinct. Sounds rang clearer at a lower volume, levels I used to employ were hard on my ears. Stranger yet was that the woods around my house felt more alive than they ever had. Grass and bark carried a life of its own I couldn’t explain. Plants were naturally alive, yes, but this was different. Some unseen force seemed to thrum within every blade of grass, vine, and branch. Day after day, I tried to understand what was happening. But never got any further toward comprehending why the changes were happening.

Today was no different. Birds chirped wildly about topics I couldn’t understand under a clear, calm sky. A silent wind precluded leaves from shifting and colliding, betraying the movement of small animals traversing the forest floor. A squirrel scampered up a nearby tree with winter food in tow as I returned to the house from the day’s hike. My daily treks grew longer but took less time. Trails I usually deemed too dangerous to use were suddenly much safer to navigate now that I could spot safe places to step. The path I followed today used to take me two hours I covered in an hour and a half, the second loop to follow a cardinal did nothing to slow me down. Sneakers clomping over fallen leaves betrayed the presence of another in the yard. A figure came around the far side of the house to meet me in the backyard.

“There you are,” David waved as he approached. “Looks like I'm in luck that I don't have to track you through the woods.”

“It’s good to see you,” I smiled at my friend as we embraced the other. “But why are you here?”

“I’m delivering notes and homework to you,” the athlete puffed out his chest proudly. I raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t recall asking you to do this for me.” David shrugged, his moss green windbreaker rustling with the movement. 

“Claire asked me to, and I thought that you could use the notes so you can stay up to date,” there was a spring in his step that felt out of place vis a vis his concern.

“Thank you, David, but are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he cheered, leading me back to his car for the notes. “I’m just in a good mood, that’s all.”

“If you say so,” I shrugged as we approached his car, a silver SUV. “I appreciate the help.”

“Anytime,” my friend stated matter of factly. We brought in a small stack of papers that constituted notes and homework for a portion of my classes. David and Claire were in only half of my classes, which meant I would have to make do without some notes, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. 

“Is Claire alright?” I asked out of the blue. “She hasn’t responded to any of my emails.” David looked at me in shock.

“Emails? Right,” he nodded slowly, “you don’t get cell service out here. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure,“ his somber expression hinted at more. David continued without a request. “The only time she’s asked about you is when she asked me to deliver these notes to you. If she hasn’t visited at all, which might be the case since she hasn’t answered your emails, then my guess is she might be losing interest.”

“You think?” David shrugged.

“I don’t know her as well as you do, but I think she’s looking to find someone else,” the athlete rolled his eyes. “Her loss.”

“What makes you think she’s after someone else?” I asked. I didn’t want to believe him; even if she was looking past me in our conversations, surely she was just distracted.

“She was asking around about who was single at the carnival that was in town,” David answered.

“There’s a carnival in town?” Who would come all the way out here? My friend nodded.

“Yeah, some sort of Halloween styled event. The staff are dressed up to look like demons and monsters. Very exquisite outfits from what I could tell.”

“Can you take me there? I need to talk to Claire,” I didn’t want to believe she had eyes for another, but I had to know.

“Okay, let’s go,” David made for the door without delay, which gave me pause. He was really willing to ferry me somewhere, risking getting in trouble, just because I need to discuss a potentially trivial matter with my girlfriend? This was him in so many ways, but still unexpected. “What are you waiting for?” he called from the driveway. “We gotta go before she leaves.”

The town commons rarely saw much use by troupes such as this or by anyone at all. The carnival, though it looked more like a circus, brought more life to the town than I saw in the sixteen years of my life in this town. A shooting gallery, amphitheater, and even a small haunted house filled the meadow on the edge of Main Street bouncing with activity. Every member of the troupe looked the part of some haunting creature or demon. Horns of stone and bone adorned the heads of many workers with fascinating realism, while others worked with claw fang to scare passersby with meticulously orchestrated jump scares. Black lines painted in sharp contrails in countless tribal designs adorned each carnival worker, darting in and out of clothing like a full-body tattoo.

“Looks like she’s gone,” David shrugged.

“Let's look again," I pivoted on my foot, tone frantic. "Maybe we missed her.” My friend placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I doubt it,” he said. “I know half the town is here enjoying the carnival, but it’s still tiny, and that red hair of hers sticks out like a sore thumb. If she’s not here, then she’s not here.” He was right, Claire was no longer here and I'd have to find another time to speak with her. A despondent sigh escaped my lips.  _ What’s up with her? Have I done something wrong, and she's avoiding me as a result? Does she want to be left alone? Is there someone else she’s into? It would help us both if she simply told me. _ “You okay?”

“Not really,” I spoke honestly. Every breath carried the weight of my worry and confusion. Small collections of people wormed around us, chatting incessantly about the carnival’s thrills. More than one perturbed glare was thrown at us, for we did occupy the walkway’s center, flanked by the stage and food stalls. Excitement filled the air around the storm clouds hanging over my head. David pulled me aside to a nearby confection stand.

“What can I do to help?” David kept a hand on my shoulder. “We can go find Claire. There aren't many places she could be. You can have answers and be back before your mom ever knew you are out.” I shook my head, leaning against the stall.

“No,” metal dug into taught shoulders, heat passing into them did nothing to ease the bundling tension. Another long sigh crawled from my lungs, then another.  _ Breathe, Will. Just breathe. _ David said nothing more, choosing to monitor me with worry laden eyes. Minutes passed by heedless of their perceived slog. Eventually, my breathing evened out, and a wave of calm washed away the rigidity I insisted on keeping. “I want to know the truth,” I confided. “But if I want this conversation with Claire to not blow up, I need a level head. I’ll see her again soon enough at school. I think I need a distraction from her right now,” fragrant traces of funnel cake floated through the air originating from the stall I leaned against. The salivating scent of hot dough and sugar won my attention.  _ If only I brought cash. _

“I got you covered if you want food.” I threw a confused look to my friend.

“You sure?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “This food can’t be cheap.”

“You’d be surprised how affordable it is,” David smirked. “C’mon, I’ll spot you.” My friend pulled me along to the concession stands. He was right. You could buy hot dogs, funnel cake, and soda for less than ten dollars. “Do you want anything more than just funnel cake?”

“Not really,” I shrugged as we stood in an empty line, “I had a large lunch, and fresh cake sounds wonderful right now.”

“Your timing couldn't have been better,” the stand operator spoke with a smile. A black-haired woman with contacts bearing a striking resemblance to cat eyes loaded several paper plates with steaming dough. David gave her a surprised look before rolling his eyes. I noted her black cat ears merging too perfectly with her headline, then refocused on the funnel cake sliding onto the plates. The potent scent of sugar and steaming dough was becoming harder and harder to resist. “I pulled these out of the oven moments ago. You cannot get any fresher than this.”

“I can tell,” I offered her a smile, which earned one in kind with fangs cresting over the edge of her lips. “I could smell the dough as it came out of the oven.” Her smile vanished, replaced with mouth hanging open and flickering eyes. I could have sworn one of the woman’s cat ear’s twitched for a fraction of a second.

“Come on, Will,” David did nothing to hide his incredulity. “I can believe you're smelling the fresh cake now that we are standing in front of it. But I doubt you could smell it around the corner with over the other food in the air.” 

“I was just complimenting her ability,” I shrugged. The funnel cake wasn't the only scent I could pinpoint. Flames licked at pre-cooked sausages on a grill opposite us. Scents of honey and barbecue sauce drizzled over pulled pork wafted over from another stall opposite us. Body odor, perfume, and dirt were some other aromas that I could detect for better or worse. But if anything was going to drown out those scents, it was the large volume of soda held by the fairgoers. The overflowing grams of sugar burned in my nostrils.  _ I think I might swear off soda for good. _

“Thank you,” the baker’s composure returned, her fangs tucked away beyond sight. “Would you both like a cake, or will you be sharing one?”

“One each, please,” David ordered, placing four dollars on the counter. The cat-girl with alarmingly realistic features passed me two plates. I took the near plain cake and handed over the sweet laden funnel cake to my friend before we departed the stall.

“I wonder if those cat ears were real,” I mused, slowly munching on my confection. “I could’ve sworn one twitched.”

“I think you’re letting a pretty face get to you,” David chuckled. “The make-up artist for this carnival is wasting their talents working for a small-time fair like this. The cosmetics look so realistic," he took a bite of his cake, "I don't blame you for thinking those cat ears were real, but come on,” he took another bite out of his sugar-soaked treat. “There's no way they were real. Actual cat-girls don't exist.” My eyes wandered around the crowd as we ate the rest of our food in silence. Benches arranged in a semi-circle five rows deep were filled to half capacity thirty minutes before the troupe’s magician was to perform. Ushers guided those still arriving to open seats, some of whom bore some markings or horns to create an image of any kind of sinister creature for this carnival on Halloween. It all looked so real. David was probably right that it was all just exceptional make-up, but I wanted to wonder if it wasn't all cosmetics and this was a troupe of non-humans.

A man walked onto the stage, the ebon cape adorning his shoulders flowed to the stage floor. Short jet black hair sat atop a face of sharp features. The black painted lines that each carnival worker wore were present on him. The lines darted under the cuffs of his tux only to emerge again on his neck and rise to his cheeks, which were adorned with matching images of deadly nightshade. He wore a silk tuxedo, its navy hues glinting in the afternoon sunlight. Black leather shoes failed to make even the smallest of sounds on the wooden panels that comprised the stage. The chattering crowd fell silent, entranced by his commanding presence. Ice blue eyes pierced through everyone in the audience, several people remarked how attractive he looked.

“Welcome one and all,” the magician bellowed, each word ringing clearly despite his thick Russian accent. “Allow me to extend my heartfelt thanks to you all for allowing us to entertain you on this Halloween afternoon.” The crowd offered up a brief applaud as he bowed. “My name is Belladonna Larau. It is my duty to guide you through the lands of specters and haunts while distilling all of their malice into enjoyment for people of all ages,” the magician twirled and removed his cape with a dramatic flourish. Two skeletons spawned from behind his cloak to an already captured audience. The inanimate figures of bone acted as Belladonna willed, dancing and passing heads on command to a cheering and laughing audience.

Puppetry, pyrotechnics, and misdirection formed the backbone of the magician's fantastical routine. I watched the show with unfaltering attention alongside David, until the second stage of the performance. Belladonna doused the outside of his cape with oil before donning it, setting the fabric alight with the snap of his fingers. The audience gasped in shock before cheering wildly as he caused he flames to bounce harmlessly from his cape to the air then floor without igniting anything but his cape. Something was off. The fire dancing on stage carried with them the scents of ash and brimstone. If there was any oil used in this performance, then I couldn't smell it. It could have been all part of the act, but I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't a standard magic routine. Eyes cast about the commons and wooded lanes beyond returned to me no signs of fire anywhere on the smokeless horizon. If anyone else noticed the smell, they made no mention of it or motion of recognition. The entirety of the audience watched the impressive performance with a guardian’s vigilance. The magician’s eyes flickered when his gaze passed along my row, but he did nothing to note displeasure.

The performance continued unabated, the ash and brimstone dissipated once the performance fires vanished at the snap of the finger. Belladonna’s final act was one of audience participation and verbal silence on his part. Cards and sleight of hand tricks seemed mundane enough, carrying no unusual odors, but I couldn't figure out the method behind each trick. His finale involved a disappearing act. The magician called his assistant to the stage. A woman wearing two-inch platform heels glided onto the stage, silent footsteps adding to the mystery of the performance. Black leather wings protruded from beyond an emerald blouse, their folded tips reaching from shoulder to the edge of her scintillating black slacks. Two horns seemed to sprout from her forehead and curve around the crown of her skull, rising inches above her head. Crimson eyes glimmered vibrantly above a wide dimpled smile.

“I shall send my lovely wife, Katarina, to the spirit world so that she may coax some wayward spirits to entertain us,” the magician declared. His explanation of details fell into the background of the stage. The mysterious odor of smoldering ruins lingered in my center of thought.  _ What could he have done to create such a smell? He didn’t set the stage on fire. Oil and fire alone don’t create ash, so how did he do it? _ A cloud of smoke detonated on stage, earning sudden gasps of murmuring wonder from the audience and pulling me from my thoughts.

“Dude, she’s gone,” David whispered in awe. The assistant, Katarina, was indeed nowhere to be seen as the smoke settled. “Not even a trace of her is left.”

“I wonder…” She was no longer visible. That much was true, but she hadn’t left this plane of existence. I could somehow smell it. The smoke cloud wreaked of ash, and it clung to the assistant. The scent of cinders rose into the air well above the settling dust and glided around out of reach of the audience. She darted to and fro as the magician called to her from beyond the false veil. He asked Katarina to call upon spirits for acts of entertainment for the crowd. Not a single ghost or specter made itself known for the duration of the finale. For all the dramatic flourishing was the assistant shifting and moving objects within the crowd to simulate phantasmic occurrences. 

The assistant bounced from row to row, selecting people with only some degree of randomness. I had an inkling that the continuous verbiage spouted by the magician was some cypher to select specific targets for the performance. A gust of wind carried the essence of flowers mix with ash on the wind from the back row toward the stage. Katarina rode the gale forward to the front row so that they could be involved in her antics. David was her first victim, the assistant pilfering, and eating, what little remained of his funnel cake. The crowd broke out in laughter at his shock. I stifled a chuckle, his expression was rather cute.

“It seems the spirits are wanting our food, ladies and gentlemen,” Belladonna snickered. “Be sure to hide what you brought in case another hungry spirit steals your lunch. Now, Katarina, bring us another visiter from beyond to entertain us.” Katarina, the dense odor of sugar betraying her position, moved about the front row. She tapped on the makeshift bleachers and empty cans as she searched for her next victim. She glided silently across the grass until stopping directly behind me. I was chosen, or so I suspected.  _ I wonder how right I am. _ The ruined confection crouched slowly and silently, ready to act upon the order. I cast a knowing glance over my shoulder toward where I suspected the assistant hid. Nothing happened, but the scent I was tracking didn’t move. Time passed with no sign of activity from the assistant. The crowd glanced about warily, wondering if something big was going to happen. Nothing happened. Not another act nor a sudden tap on my knee to get me to jump.  _ I was right. I found you, Katarina. _

“It’s alright, Katarina,” the magician thundered delicately. “If the spirits do not wish to play, then we shall let them rest. They do not play nice when forced,” Belladonna flipped backward, a plume of smoke erupting from where he once stood. Katarina emerged from the odorous plume wearing a well-practiced smile among rigid features. “Thank you all,” the magician and his assistant bowed. “You have been a wonderful audience. Please return again this evening for a ballet performance tailored specifically for the holiday. In the meantime, please continue to enjoy the festivities we offer to your heart's content. Farewell.” A circle of flame erupted around the pair for a moment before extinguishing itself in a flash; the couple, once in the ring, vanished from sight.

“That was one hell of a show,” David lauded. “Do you think they’ll ever return and put on a second performance?”

“I don’t know,” I answered after biting into a pulled pork sandwich. The heavenly aroma of honey, barbecue sauce, and slow-cooked pork proved too much to resist. We made our way back to David’s car after making one last circuit of the carnival. The voluminous chatter dampened with our meandering return.

“Our return depends on your intentions, young man,” Belladonna spoke as we approached the car, words laced with veiled malice. David and I spun around, looking for the man. The magician revealed himself from behind a nondescript white moving truck, his assistant was nowhere in sight. “I must admit that I did not expect anyone here who could sense magic,” he cast a menacing glare at us while folding his arms. “Now tell me. How were you able to locate my assistant?” A bitter chill ran down my spine, Belladonna’s hostility toward me was clear.  _ I want to be honest. But… would he even believe me? He’s implying magic is real. What do I say? _

“It was dumb luck,” David answered, taking a step forward put himself between the magician and me. “He meant no harm.” Belladonna rolled his eyes.

“At least offer a more plausible and well thought out lie if you are going to lie to someone. Now answer me honestly,” cinders and what I could only describe as entropy filled the air unseen, scent the only indication of change. Something terrible was going to happen if I didn’t answer.

“I followed a scent,” I stammered. If telling the truth didn’t lead us out of trouble, then nothing would. David threw me a worried glance, concerned if I should divulge this information but not enough to stop me. Belladonna’s animosity remained steady, but the ruinous odor thinned to where the smell didn’t stick to every surface. “The smoke cloud clung to her, which allowed me to follow her through your act. I don’t know what trick you used to actually turn her invisible. Allow me to apologize for scaring Katarina. It was not my intent.” 

“I don’t trust him, Will,” my friend turned back to the magician. “We shouldn't be telling him anything,” David clenched his fists, ready to pounce on a man who was more dangerous than us even if he didn’t look the part _. _

“Calm down, David,” I barked. “We gain nothing from opposing him. I get the feeling we are outclassed here.” the swimmer glared at Belladonna for a moment before breathing deeply, then taking a position behind me. Belladonna’s hostility relented with a sigh, entropic aromas disappearing completely.

“I will accept your apology if you tell me what you are,” the magician studied me intently. Ice blue eyes bored into every fiber of my being, trying to dig up the genesis of my ability.

The man’s commanding gaze left me on the brink of squirming under its pressure. “I’m human,” I blurted out, unsure of what else to say or what else I could be.

“And what else are you?” The magician inquired. “No human has a nose that strong.” My gaze fell away from his, my fidgeting now unconfined.  _ What could he mean? Wait… is he talking about that? _ _ Could I tell him what happened? Should I just show him? Would he even believe me? _ “Anything to say for yourself?”

“I don’t know if this is connected,” I said, removing my left glove, “but this started appearing on my wrist at the start of the week.” Belladonna watched me before approaching the wrist I extended out to him. Two interwoven lines, one ivy and the other chain circled around my wrist, ending with two seated wolves at the underside of my wrist. 

“What have we here,” the magician mused, eyes full of amazement as he pulled my wrist closer for a better look. His silky hand glided across my skin, taking in every detail of the mark. “I considered many possibilities, but a bonded human was not one I considered.”

“You mean it’s not just a tattoo Will decided to get without telling anyone?” David asked, eyes monitoring Belladonna with caution, then shifting to me with worry before returning to the magician. Belladonna threw my friend a sideways glance colored with incredulity.

“This is no simple body marking,” the magician deadpanned. “This mark,” he pulled my wrist before my eyes, “is a symbol of an intimate connection you have made with a magical creature.”

“When you say magical,” I began tentatively with a slight quiver in my hands, “you mean that a form of magic that exists in fiction actually does indeed exist in reality?”

“Something to that effect, child,” Belladonna smirked. “There is more to this mundane world than what most humans believe,” the area around us twisted and warped with sinister crackling. A nightmarish wailing drowned out the carnival’s joyous raucous as shadows took on lives of their own and danced free from the confines of their creators. Belladonna’s skin shifted from pale to a sun-kissed crimson. My pulse began to soar, demanding I break free from his grip and put distance between the magician and myself. Belladonna offered no resistance against my escape, merely standing still. Simultaneously, the cars and trucks in the lot groaned as their metal frames continued to warp and discolor to varying shades of black, red, and purple. David met my stumbling retreat and frantic breathing with an advance, extending an arm out as he became a human shield protecting me from this haunting visage.  _ What the hell is this? What is he? A demon? _

The harrowing scene vanished as quickly as it started. Every vehicle warped by the bizarre energy returned to its normal state of existence. The jubilant cacophony from the fair returned to its dull yet consistent volume. A few parties wandered through the crowd of automobiles searching for their rides, none seemed to be the wiser to what just transpired. My lungs continued with their haggard breathing. My eyes continued to dart from car to car, shadow to shadow, waiting for the horror to begin again.  _ …What the hell was that…? _

“That was an example of what kind of power lies beyond the veil of what humanity perceives as reality,” Belladonna answered the unspoken question, dark features, and narrow eyes glared at my friend and I.

“Was scaring him necessary?” David chided. “He doesn't need to be scared straight.”

“Of course not,” the magician shook his head. “But we who live our lives in secret will go to extreme lengths to keep ourselves safe. There are those who would see us all dead, regardless of how we treat humans.”

“I have no intention of revealing your existence,” I stammered. “Who the hell would believe me anyway?”

“Those who hunt us would believe you without much convincing,” the creature leveled a finger at me. “You are also at risk of being hunted.” Another chill ran down my spine, my pulse ramped up again at the assertion.

“Wait,” I pushed passed David, “what do you mean?” Belladonna pointed to my wrist.

“You are bound to another, a wolf by the looks of the mark,” he informed. “There are some beings in this world that are more powerful than their mundane counterparts. They live longer and bear knowledge of the oldest form of magic native to Earth. Some humans resent that power and seek to kill all such creatures and those connected to them.”

“So, I am bound to the wolf that bit me, and now I’m a target for its hunters?” Belladonna nodded. “Why me? I don’t recall consenting to this!”

“You did,” the magician lifted up my wrist a second time. “You did something to show the wolf that you were giving it permission to forge this bond. If you are so desperate for it to be removed, then you need to seek out the wolf that bit you. I do not understand the nuances of this magic. Only the one who made it can break it; even then, the wolf must deem it necessary.”

“Unbelievable,” I sighed, gently freeing my arm from his grip. “This is what I get for freeing something I know so little about.”

“That may be why the wolf made the bond in the first place,” Belladonna spoke with a tenderness I did not think possible. “You may have saved it from certain death. The wolf may have bound you as a method of gratitude. It is not solely a mark of death.” I raised an eyebrow at the man.

“…What do you mean?”

“Your sense of smell has dramatically increased, for starters,” Belladonna continued with his tender tone, an action that did much to calm my nerves. “I’m sure your other senses will also improve over time. I’ve heard that once the bond is strong enough that you can eventually shape-shift into a wolf yourself.”

“All we’ll need then is a vampire to fight you for Claire’s honor, and we’ll have a blockbuster movie series,” David joked. It was kind of him to try and lighten the mood instead of ignoring it as it didn't pertain to him.

“No way am I taking part in that ludicrous idea,” I groused, throwing him a wry smile.

“But we’d make a fortune,” my friend winked.

“Lucky for the cinephiles then that vampires don't exist,” Belladonna chuckled. “But in all seriousness, Will, I would consider your bond a blessing. You will gain far more than just the risk, but it will take time.”

“Normal people won't treat me differently, will they?” I worried that I would be singled out for this connection even if others didn’t know anything about it.

“Some will,” Belladonna pulled my ear close, “but do not confuse coincidence with causation. If you worried about him,” Belladonna motioned to David, “Don’t be. He is a loyal man who won’t turn you in. Keep your friend close.” I looked back at my friend, who was fidgeting restlessly. He didn’t trust Belladonna, that much I knew, but it seemed like he didn’t want to cross me either as I shook my head at him when he tried to step forward and intervene when I looked at him as I was dragged forward by the magician. “But have a care, not everyone will be like him, others may resent you if they find out. I’ve heard stories of humans who were murdered simply for this connection.”

“And the hunters who seek the wolf I am bonded with will seek to kill me.” The Russian nodded silently. David cleared his throat.

“Not to cut in, Will,” he started, “but we do need to go if you are to finish your chores before your mom gets home.” A quick glance at my phone told me just how much time had passed.  _ We’ve been here four hours?! _

“I have said my piece, so go if you need,” Belladonna released his grip. “I do apologize for my earlier hostility, but I’m sure you now understand what we must do to protect ourselves.”

“Kinda,” I shrugged. “Are those to hunt us that common?”

“Not common enough to rule the world,” the magician spoke bluntly, “but enough to threaten our lives regularly.”

“C’mon, Will,” David called from his car. My feet stopped halfway between the magician and David. I needed to go home, but I desired more information about what reality was actually like. Belladonna’s knowledge tugged at my desire for more information. I cast a longing glance back at the man who gave me a primer for my future.

“I have said all I will say,” the Russian bowed deeply. “Seek the wolf if you want to know more.”

“But how will I find her?” I asked. Belladonna turned on his heel and returned to the carnival, but not before giving a parting word.

“If it is a desire shared, then you will be reunited in time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, as a heads up, a lot is going on right now so next month's update will probably be posted late. Thanks for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy the story


	5. Chapter 5

“How do you plan to keep this a secret?” David asked, gazing out the window into the backyard. “Word has already spread about you and what happened at the police station, save for the dog actually being a wolf. There’s no telling what questions people will ask.”

“I’ve been asking myself that,” I answered with Felix in my lap. The silent drive back had been uneventful, both of us were struggling to fully comprehend what we learned today. “I don’t know what to make of it all,” I let out a heavy sigh. “Getting bit by a wolf, somehow making a bond with it, learning that magic exists, and to top it all off my life is now at risk,” my head fell onto Felix’s. “It’s all so surreal.”

“Do you believe what the performer said?” the swimmer inquired still looking out the window as if searching for something.

“After his haunting display of power?” I scoffed. “How can I not believe him?”

“We could just call the whole thing an illusion and that your hormones are what’s giving you your sensitive nose.” We both let out soft chuckles at the jape. A pregnant silence filled the room between us. “So we don’t say a word about your bond or what we saw at the carnival to anyone,” my friend directed the stray discussion back to focus. “That’s easy enough even though the carnival will be the talk of the town for a while. The problem will be the wolf.” I lifted my head from its resting place on my squeezable cat.

“Why is she a problem?” I asked. David turned back to me after a long sigh.

“There’s a rumor circulating school you were bit by a wolf,” he said. I could feel my eyes widen in shock. _Shit._ “I didn’t believe it myself and denounced it when asked, but the fact that it is indeed true means you’ve gotta work hard to hide your wrist until we can come up with a story for the mark.” A heavy nod and despondent sigh were my only answers.

“Maybe I shouldn't have freed her,” my head sunk back onto my silent companion. “I’d never have to deal with any of this.”

“If you hadn’t you wouldn’t be the Will Hunter I know,” David asserted, face beaming with certainty. “You said the wolf needed help and I believe you. You’ve always had a knack for understanding animals.”

“Is that you or your veterinarian father speaking?”

“Just because I heard it from my dad doesn’t mean I can't believe it.” A thin smile graced my lips. “So,” my friend clapped, “what is the plan going forward?”

“I don’t really know, perhaps we shouldn't be doing anything drastic at the moment,” I thought aloud. “We don’t know anything outside of what Belladonna said with no context beyond that. Frantically searching for information might make us bigger targets.”

“Sounds good,” David nodded. “You’re still suspended for another week anyway so it’s not like we can do much now anyways,” the swimmer checked his phone. “Well then, if we’re not doing anything yet do you mind if I bounce?”

“You have a date or something?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. David shifted his feet, moving his hands up and down indecisively.

“Not really,” the brunet evaded. “I mean she didn’t call it a date so I-I’m not treating it as one,” David sighed in defeat. “I’m meeting Faith Granwell to learn ASL.” I blinked several times before answering.

“Faith?” The swimmer nodded silently, cheeks slowly growing crimson. “And she’ll be teaching you American Sign Language?”

“I want to talk with her more,” David looked to the floor. “But I don't want pass notes back and forth like physical texting. I asked her if she’d teach me and she said yes.”

“And the fact that you like her means no never mind to you?” I inquired with a knowing wry smile.

“Yes, she’s gorgeous,” David admitted, cheeks now vibrant tomatoes. “But I’m not going to ask her out! We hardly know each other. I don’t want to come across as some creep looking just to bed her.”

“Take it easy, man,” I chortled. “I didn’t think you were doing that, I was just teasing you.” David did his best to look cross with me, but his red cheeks and lovestruck eyes created a flustered tsundere look more than anything else. “Anyways, don’t let me keep you. You go have fun with Miss Granwell.”

“You sure?” the brunette asked, still blushing.

“I’ll be fine,” I shooed him out of the bedroom. “It reflects poorly on you if you are late for your first lesson. If I need anything I will contact you.” David acquiesced before leading the way downstairs, the floorboards creaking under our weight. Cold tile hastened our walk through the kitchen to the door. The swimmer opened the door slowly. He stopped on the threshold after I placed a hand on his shoulder, looking back at me.

“Thank you, David. For everything.” My closest friend smiled warmly.

“Don’t mention it. Friends take care of each other. It’s what we do.”

“Even when one of us is being dragged into a secret world?” I asked.

“Even then,” he assured firmly. I watched David drive off even when he was out of sight, Belladonna’s words lingering in my mind. _People around me are going to begin acting differently, huh? I don’t know what to make of all this. But David is right. I haven’t done anything wrong, I just need to deal with the changes._ A sigh escaped my lips. _Here’s hoping all this has nothing to do with Waylen’s beasts._

Despite having agreed to not take any action, I did decide on a thirty-minute trek through the woods hoping to find the wolf who bonded with me but returned to rotate laundry with nothing to show for my time. Images of the wolf at the station filled my mind as I made my bed from the last of the recently completed laundry. She must be the wolf who bonded to me. _But why? Gratitude? Maybe. Maybe some other reason I cannot comprehend. It can’t be because she likes me._ My bedroom door opened just enough for Mom to poke her head through the opening.

“There you are,” she said. “Chores done?”

“This is the last of it,” I answered while dressing a pillow. “I’ll be downstairs shortly to start dinner.” Auburn hair disappeared behind the closing door. Ten minutes later my bed was made and I began all the prep work for dinner. Mom came down the stairs slowly, its creaking boards betraying her approach, and slid into a dining chair.

“How was your day?” she asked after clearing her throat.

“It was fine,” I shrugged. A pair of flour battered chicken breasts sizzled on the stove, oil occasionally spitting haphazardly. Lemon, meat, and white wine combined into a salivating aroma. Diced potatoes simmered in boiling water on another coil, the pot’s lid cracked to permit steam to escape. _I could just eat this as is. It smells fantastic._ Sudden scraping of wood alerted me to motion behind me. Bare feet tiptoed across the floor, ending next to me.

“Looks good,” my mother said looking over the cooking meal. “Claire is lucky to have you.”

“If only she’d let me cook for her,” I groused. “We’ve been dating for a whole year and not once has she let me do anything like this.”

“Vegan?” I rolled my eyes.

“If she is a vegan, then she had done a poor job of it,” the topic of my girlfriend brought my earlier worries back to the forefront of my mind. _Was she sick of me? Did she ever really like me?_ A gentle hand rested on my shoulder.

“Is something wrong, Will?” Mom asked, her gaze full of worry.

“I’m fine,” I quickly pulled my shoulder out from under her care and put my focus on the final steps of preparing dinner. “Could you help set the table?” I asked without looking at her. “Dinner will be ready soon.” My mother took one step away from the stove before pivoting back to me.

“How about you set the table for once and I finish making dinner?” she chirped, taking the tongs from my hand. “I should be the one making dinner, anyways.” I gave Mom a curious look, eyebrow raised. Mom fidgeted slightly under my gaze that asked every question in lieu of using words. “I can handle it, Will. I am a mother, not some helpless ditz.”

“Alright,” I raised my hands in surrender. “Don’t let the chicken sit for too long or else it’ll burn.” Mom took my place at the stove to oversee the culinary project. I worried about her overseeing this meal, if only because she hadn’t done much cooking for several years, but she was bound and determined to do it.

I was worried over nothing. After a few minutes of de-rusting, Mom glided through the kitchen with adroit motions. I monitored her as I set the table in case she needed any help, but Mom finished making dinner without any need for assistance whatsoever. _I do need to remember who taught me how to cook._

“How about that?” Mom puffed out her chest as she set food-laden plates on the table. “I still got it.”

“I’m not sure you ever lost it,” I chuckled. “You just needed to get the kinks out from what I saw.”

“I am qualified enough to cook without my son’s oversight thank you very much,” she stuck her tongue out at me. “So…” Mom looked at me with hopeful eyes. “How is it?” I looked up from my plate.

“Have you not noticed that I’ve already started eating?” I asked, raising my eyebrow. “It’s perfectly fine.”

“Just fine?”

“It’s good, Mom,” I said after downing half a glass of water. She offered up a wry smile before digging in. The two of us ate in silence for a time, not inclined to make any sort of small talk.

“So…” Mom finally spoke. She kept her eyes on her plate as if unsure how to broach the topic she sought. “How’s your wrist?”

“It’s fine,” I evaded, adjusting my sleeve under the table.

“So it doesn’t hurt?” she asked between bites. “There’s no sign of infection is there?”

“I’m fine, Mom.” I groused. I couldn’t tell her the truth. How could I? It’s not like I had a credible story of any sort. Belladonna effectively declared I shouldn’t tell anyone about what I’ve become involved with, given the implication that my hunters were everywhere. _Just how common are these hunters? How many have I encountered? How many do I personally know?_

I spent the rest of my evening reviewing the notes David brought to me and catching up on the material I was missing due to my suspension. Mom sat down on the loveseat, leaving me the entire couch, watching the news in quiet with a frown that screamed of loneliness. An hour passed by without a hint of talk between us. I continued to study while my mother traded the now repeating news for some true-crime series. I caught her hand sliding out onto the other cushion of the love seat, longing desperately for the company of another. _Please don’t be wanting that monster to be by your side once more. Not after all he’s done to hurt you._

Mom pulled some of her favorite candles, that oddly carried no scent, from the closet and set them out on the window sills. One by one she lit them, the strike of each match barely registering in the distant parts of my mind. It wasn’t until the awful stench reached my nose that I realized something was wrong. Despite my curling nostrils, I couldn’t see anything wrong with the house. Everything looked normal. Mom caught my recoiling face and raised an eyebrow at me.

“Is something wrong, Will?” She asked.

“What the hell is that stench?” I inquired, covering my nose with my hand.

“I don’t smell anything,” Mom said as she sniffed the air. “Are you sure you smell something?” I took another whiff of the foul air unobstructed just to make sure. I smelled something alright. It _was_ the candles.

A caustic flame rose from the wax, sending my nose into full revolt. The sulfurous odor burned my nostrils and scratched at my lungs. I thrust my face into the couch cushions to shield myself from the smell instead of answering her question, but all I did was look like a pouting spoiled brat. There was a moment of silence before Mom said anything.

“I’m sorry,” she hung her head, “I’m rather tired. I think I’ll just go to bed.” Smoke rose from a candle’s wick stuck between two of her fingers. “Good night, William,” my mother set the candles on the coffee table and sped up the stairs before I could utter a single noise. I sat on the couch, frozen, for a minute before cleaning up all of my notes. _Perhaps I should go to bed, too._

Voices emanated from within the master bedroom as I passed by it on the way back to my room. “I think something might be wrong,” Mom murmured at something, her words sending a paralytic shock down my spine. “No. Not that I’m aware of at any rate,” there was a sudden gasp. “William would never do such a thing! But…” her sobs came through clearly, as if the closed door was wide open. “I don’t know. Maybe he did. but if he did, then I don’t know where he found it.” Knots formed in my gut, churned violently, dissipated, then repeated that process endlessly as a result of her assertions and wailing. I wanted to run away and console my mother in equal measure. The violent turbulence of emotions left me without a clear message for her so I backed away from saying anything so I went to bed. _Goddammit, Will. That monster already hurt her enough. You don't need to become another._

It was a small miracle that I wasn't hurt. Pointed rocks and packed dirt marked the points of impact the pup and I connected with as we tumbled down the gaping maw of the ravine. Water from the river pooled in a small puddle at my feet before moving on downstream. Pain echoed through my limbs and back as I sat up. I would feel that fall for a few days. Pained whimpers brought my attention to the young wolf I tried to save. She lay next to me motionless for a time, right hind leg bent in a way that nature would never naturally permit. A cursory once over revealed that was the only serious injury. The pup whined again as she tried to get up, barely succeeding to stand on three legs. Every attempt to put weight on the broken legended with an agonizing yelp. A quick study of the ravine’s slope revealed the pup would never make the climb as she was. Not a single guardian from before approached the ledge above us, nor did anyone descend into the ravine to bring us back. _I could probably climb out myself, but…_ Another wounded yelp echoed through my ears, the pleading cry rending my heart.

She may have been a pup, but the young wolf was quite heavy, and unhelpful. The hunter squirmed frantically before she realized what I was doing, settling down once she was on my back. Sturdy handholds were in short supply up the ravine’s edge, a matter exacerbated by the pup’s regular fits to adjust her resting place during the climb, but enough were present to make the climb. My muscles began to ache at one quarter up the incline. Splashes of water sopped the dirt around the creek in select areas on my selected path, my feet often slipping in those precarious patches. Air entered into burning lungs as I was halfway up the ravine, the pup’s whimpers resonating constantly in my ears.

The wolf did what she could to stay in place but her sharp, if short, claws digging into my shoulders and lower back caused pangs of discomfort to course through me. Beads of sweat cascaded down my forehead and back, popping blisters screamed with each new handhold gripped. Despite the pain from screaming muscles, I succeeded in climbing out of the chasm, crawling from the ravine’s ridge to more stable ground in the clearing. The wolves from earlier closed around me, falling in line behind their alpha. The towering pack leader studied me for a moment before approaching to recover her pup. The youngling continued to whimper as the alpha carried her a few steps away before setting her down. My current respite saw no activity outside of breathing, my exhausted body demanding a break from strife. I watched the pack tend to the pup while strength slowly returned to me. The wolves enveloped the pup in a tight circle with the alpha standing before the broken leg. None of the hunters made a sound, the young wolf’s pain induced yelps the only audible noise.

A sudden gust of wind blew through the clearing sending stray leaves aloft with abundant force. Grass wove around the front paws of the circled wolves forming a natural chain of interlocked feet. Unseen forces immutable by time seemed to fill the air, the wind persisting all the while. A cold looming sense of dread crept into the throes of my consciousness. I couldn’t see or hear my playmate at all, chains of grass shriveling around the pack’s paws the only sign of activity. Leaves fell to the earth as the blustering winds ceased immediately, withering brown blades replaced the once lush grass within the circle of wolves. Nothing. Not a sound was made by anyone, not myself, the pup, nor her pack. Something shifted within the circle, my heart surged with hope. The pup darted out from her pack heading at me in full sprint.

It was real. Last night's dream, a second part to its predecessor of previous nights, awoke something in the deepest recesses of my mind. A memory. Yes, and no. It was a realization thatthe repetitious dream following my sleep was a memory long forgotten and, perhaps more importantly, a recollection of the clearing’s location. That was where I now stood. The clearing, river, and ravine. It was all there. The circle of dead grass was no longer present, but I knew in every fiber of my being that this was the right place.

A sheepish chuckle escaped me as I looked down into the ravine. The devouring chasm of my dream lay before me, its depth a mere fifteen feet. _Well, that was eight years ago. This ravine would have been a much more arduous climb as an eight-year-old with deadweight than it would be now._ Nostalgia and wonder kept me company on that bitter November morning. The lucid memory now clear in my mind left me longing. I wanted. No, I needed to see the wolf who bonded to me.

The rustling of leaves brought my attention out of the past to find the wolf I’d longed to see behind me on the edge of the clearing. Grey eyes with hues of green shimmered in the open sunlight. A sudden realization of fleeting emptiness only made itself known in this moment as it vanished with intimate companionship taking its place. The bond tying us together left no room for doubt this was the wolf that I freed. Neither of us moved, the moment too tender to disturb. All the second-guessing, all the wondering if I shouldn’t have broken her out of prison, all of it ceased to matter. I did not regret a thing.

“ _I am glad you remember this place,”_ a rich, primal voice echoed in my head. _“I am relieved you evaded punishment for releasing me.”_ I blinked repeatedly as my jaw went slack. Someone’s voice was in my head. The wolf’s voice was in my head. It must have been, but how? The wolf tilted her head. _“Is something wrong?”_

“N-no,” I stammered. “I just never expected to hear a wolf’s voice in my head.”

 _“Ah, that is understandable,”_ the wolf said. _“This is your second time experiencing a magical phenomenon, isn’t it?”_

 _“Third actually, but who’s counting?”_ I thought to myself.

 _“I am not,”_ the wolf spoke. _“but I would like to hear what encounter you’ve had outside of my matron’s pack and myself.”_ I stared bug-eyed at her, stunned she could somehow hear my thoughts. My companion let out a chuckle. _“Don’t act so surprised I can hear your thoughts, you are bound to me after all. Though I must say your shocked expression is adorable.”_

“Thank you…?” Heat rushed to my cheeks. The wolf said nothing, but I felt a strange sensation resembling happiness coming from her.

 _“You’re welcome,”_ she stated proudly. _“My name is Phaal,”_ the wolf walked to the clearing’s center. _“Come closer and tell me yours.”_ There was a confidence in her voice that was equal parts compelling and alluring. Resisting was possible, but I didn’t want to. My own curiosity mixed with her desire to know me better brought me forward.

“Should we do this in another location?” I asked, feet still moving slowly to meet Phaal. “There’s a good chance someone could see us here.” A gust of wind synthesized from nothing swirled tightly around the wolf and I. My skin tingled at the rounding force, the wind took something from me in return for something it gave, what I could not say. The gale circled twice before dissipating abruptly.

 _“I have planned accordingly,”_ Phaal proudly stated as we met in the center of the clearing. _“No one will see us now.”_

“That was magic, right?” I’d picked up the scent of magic before, if Belladonna’s reaction was anything to go by, but this was the first time I’d actually _felt_ magic.

 _“I see your senses are sharpening quickly,”_ Phaal said as I sat in front of her. _“I did not expect you to pick up on the noticeable aspects of magic so quickly.”_

“A carnival was in town yesterday and its host proved its existence to me, so really I’m more aware of it now that I know it exists,” I explained sheepishly. “You’re giving me too much credit.”

 _“I am giving you the credit you deserve,”_ Phaal said as she familiarized herself with my scent. _“Now tell me your name so I may pair it with this cute face of yours.”_

“M-my name’s William Hunter,” I answered, cheeks becoming a vibrant crimson. “You can just call me Will.”

 _“As you wish, William,”_ Phaal smirked, or the wolf equivalent of smirking. Her fur shone healthy and strong in the cloudless sky. Scents of dense woods and earthen musk wafted from her coat, an aromatic insight to an aspect of nature few have ever seen this close. Close as I was to a capable predator, I felt no fear. In fact, I felt at home. Phaal wouldn't hurt me, it was an immutable fact I knew, regardless of the fact I had no reason to believe it. _“You’ve grown since we last played together.”_

“Eight years is a long time,” I mused. “I’m surprised you don’t have a pack to call your own.” Phaal circled around me, pressing her body into my back.

 _“I do have one, Will,”_ Phaal declared, looking over my shoulder to brush her head against mine. _“Or rather, we, have a pack.”_

“…What?” I asked dumbstruck.

 _“You and I are a pack, Will,”_ she repeated. _“You are bound to me. I am the alpha of our pack. Your Alpha.”_ I didn’t doubt her claim, part of my being knew _something_ she was saying was true, but I couldn’t shake the looming dread slowly winning me over.

“Are you expecting me to live with you in the woods?” The countless scenarios swirling in my head left little room for clear thinking. I needed more information.

 _“I can’t say I wouldn’t disapprove of such a notion,”_ Phaal mused. Something told me what she meant was ‘that’s exactly what I want.’

“I-I can’t just up and leave my life here to join you in the wild,” I resisted. “I want to go to college, have a career. I even have a girlfriend,” the dread of leaving everything gave rise to anger in my words. “Do you seriously expect me to abandon all of that? You can’t make me.” Phaal said nothing. The wolf walked around look at me face to face. Beautiful, commanding, aggravating eyes insisted upon commanding my attention.

 _“I do not expect you to give up what you value, Will,”_ she answered my anger with evenness and care. _“Forcing you to leave everything you care for would destroy the gentleness within you. I will not do that to you. You are bound to me. You are part of my pack. I cherish my own.”_ Her declaration caught me off-guard. No one. No one had ever said I was someone to cherish. No one besides Mom, anyways.

“How can you say something like that when you hardly know me?” I asked, pulling my knees to my chest. I felt a twinge of shame for my emotional outburst. Phaal was generous enough to allow me to keep my life and part of me wanted to throw it back in her face out of petty spite because she claimed me.

 _“I know you better than you might think, Will,”_ Phaal said, pressing her nose against mine. _“I know you are a gentle soul who cares for wounded animals. You rescued me twice. And you have not asked me to destroy our bond despite your protest.”_

“I could ask for you to do that now,” I threatened.

 _“…Is that what you desire?”_ Phaal asked, trepidation clear. I opened my mouth to say yes but closed it.

“Do I have to answer now?” the wolf shook her head in a bizarrely human fashion.

_“You do not need to answer now, Will. I can break the bond whenever you reach an answer. I understand I did force the bond onto you. I want you to stay bound to me, but only if you want to stay bound.”_

“Then I’d like to get back to you,” I smiled weakly at Phaal. “I need time to sort through everything you’ve told me.”

 _“Of course,”_ Phaal licked my cheek. _“Shall I leave you alone with your thoughts?”_

“Not yet,” I said, feeling calm enough to release my grip on my legs. “I want to ask you some questions that having answered will help me. Is that okay, Phaal?” Her tail began wagging with reckless abandon.

 _“Yes. Of course, Will,”_ Phaal exclaimed. _“What do you want to know?”_

“Why did you form a bond with me?” I’d been wondering this for a while and felt it was the best place to start.

 _“You are the one I desire to share my pack and it was the best way I could help you when you broke me out of that cage,”_ the grey wolf asserted. I raised an eyebrow.

“How was it the best way to help me?”

 _“Magic can be exhaustive to use, Will,”_ Phaal explained. _“Rusting the lock was beyond my ability to do alone, but once bound with you I could tap into both of our abilities to do what I could not do alone. It is also how the spell shielding us from prying eyes is powered,”_ she circled around to my back once more. _“We should not talk much longer, this spell is depleting your energy.”_

“So that’s why I feel so exhausted,” I yawned. An indescribable something had been leaving my body since the spell took effect, slowly draining my vitality as we spoke unnoticed by others. “One more question then. Is the bond what allows you to understand me, or did you know what I was saying back at the police station?”

 _“I could understand you at the police station,”_ the wolf pushed me to my feet. _“Matron, my mother, insisted I understand the human language I would encounter the most.”_ My legs moved with weary protest, forcing a slow rise to my feet. _“You need to rest. We can continue this conversation any time you wish. All you need to do is reach out to me with your mind. I may not respond immediately if I’m hunting, but I will at least tell you I’ve heard you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: It's nice to be back, especially since the delay took up less time, which meant more time to edit... maybe too much time :P. Thank you all for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

Halloween weekend turned my life upside down to such an extent it took the second week of my suspension to reach a new equilibrium. Being able to share thoughts with another obliterated a great deal of my privacy. Whenever I would mull over what happened to me and what I should do I wound up sharing my thoughts with Phaal. She was kind enough to warn me when I sent her anything and was instrumental in teaching me how to keep thoughts to myself, but I would jump every time her voice echoed in my head.

Bonding to another like this never occurred even in my wildest dreams. A cursory internet search revealed nothing remotely close to the bond I now shared with Phaal. She was the only one I could lean on for information and guidance about anything magic related, Belladonna and the carnival vanished into the night after Halloween. I did not object to the bond directly. It brought me closer to nature through my still enhancing senses. I could now smell a car approaching long before I could hear or see it, diesel engines burned with an acrid odor that forced me to curl my nose whenever one passed. Doors and walls did nothing to halt sound waves from reaching my ears, eavesdropping on conversations became all too easy as a result. The more time passed, the more I wanted to keep the bond, with a few caveats.

Phaal’s guarantee that I could maintain my way of life did much to alleviate my concerns, but felt at odds with her sentiment. Phaal seemed certainly adamant about allowing me to retain my normal life, but her tone always hid several disquiet notes. She declared herself my alpha. I wasn’t sure what that fully entailed, but it seemed to me that Phaal intended to take the lead in whatever our relationship was supposed to be.

Claire was the primary reason I withheld my answer. Sure my relationship with Claire was in a rough spot, but that didn’t mean I wanted to end it. We had been dating for a year. I wasn’t going to give up on her that easily. Unfortunately, the reality of our relationship nibbled away at my resolve to keep our love alive. All emails I sent to her went unanswered for two weeks. To say I was worried was an understatement, but her parents telling me she was fine kept me from doing anything rash. Phaal didn’t state it, but there was a subtle hint of anger in her words when I confided in her about my relationship worries. I wanted an answer for the lack of contact, but wasn’t sure how to avoid being confrontational.

My suspension finally came to a close, the end of being grounded ever so far away still. David had been a lifesaver when he dropped off the notes for class, allowing me to stay up to date on the material.

“So, this Phaal considers you to be one of her pack,” David mused quietly. I hadn’t told him a thing since the carnival, preferring to update him in person rather than via email. The two of us sat in the back of the bus discussing where to go from here. “Are you going to stay with her? You certainly seem to enjoy the benefits the bond gives you.” I thumped my head against the seat.

“That’s just it,” I sighed. “I like having these senses. I just don’t want my life to be turned upside down. I don’t even want to know what Claire would say about this if I told her. I don’t want to cheat on her, but I’m at a loss.”

“I’m well aware,” the swimmer nodded. “But, you know you’re going to have to pick one.” A heavy sigh and matching nod were my only answers. “So, if you had to pick right now, which would it be?”

“E-excuse me,” a timid voice interrupted our conversation. A blue-eyed brunette stood in the aisle next to us. She wore a shirt depicting some pop band I wasn’t familiar with and dark navy jeans. Sleek walking shoes peeked out from beneath the girl’s pants. Mono-colored frames slid down her nose occasionally, which she responded to by swiftly pushing her black glasses up her nose.

“Is there something you need?” David threw the girl a stern glare, his sideways look did nothing to lessen his hostility. The girl recoiled under the pressure.

“N-no,” she stammered. “S-s-sorry for bothering you.”

“Wait,” my call stopped her mid-turn, a hopeful expression peeking over her shoulder. “I recognize you. You’re Sophia River, Mrs. River’s daughter, right?” The girl spun back to us excitedly.

“Y-yes,” she nodded vigorously.

“You moved here at the beginning of October, right?” Another giddy nod. “Have you been able to adjust to the school yet?”

“N-n-not really,” Sophia shook her head. “No one wants to talk to me. Do you…” she fidgeted back and forth while mustering the courage to ask some question. “Do you have any…” More fidgeting, “do you have any advice on how to make friends?” _Making friends in a small town is tough, especially when you’re the new kid on the block._

“Well,” I sat up, “have you joined any clubs at school?” The brunette shook her head, foregoing a verbal answer. “Then I would encourage you to join a club. If you’re nervous about walking into a club meeting unannounced, then meet with the club’s adviser beforehand.”

“So I can have friends if I join a club?” A thread of hope laced the nervous sixth grader’s words.

“Joining a club can help, but,” she froze as I pointed a finger at her. “You will need to take some initiative in talking to others. They won’t come to you.”

“I-I-I can’t t-t-talk to others,” Sophia stammered, waving her hands in front of her. “I-I get so n-n-nervous,” she was practically on the verge of tears from imagining herself in front of others. _This girl…_

“I don’t believe that, Sophia,” I smiled warmly, an act that canceled her squirming anxiety. “You came up to me and started a conversation on your own power. I believe you can do it again.”

“R-really?” She asked, cheeks red with embarrassment. I nodded firmly.

“Really. Don’t let your fear get the best of you.” Her eyes wandered in thought, chewing on the message of my pep talk, before returning to me.

“Okay, Will,” Sophia smiled brilliantly. “I’ll do it.” She turned on her heels and bounded away back to another occupied seat. Sitting in the adjacent seat Sofia entered a conversation with other girls around her age. The brunette stumbled over her sentences more than once, but persevered to earn a degree of camaraderie and more than a bit of jealousy, if the envious glares I received were anything to go by.

“Did your charge succeed?” David snarked.

“Charge?” I turned to him with a confused look.

“You have a caring soul, as shown in your volunteer work,” he began, “but this is the first time you’ve taken an underclassman under your wing.”

“I didn’t take her under my wing,” I scoffed. “All I did was give her some advice and a bit of a push.”

“All it takes is a spark to light a fire,” David shrugged.

“You know you didn't tell me how your ASL lesson with Faith went.” The rest of the bus ride saw no additional interactions with others. The swimmer flashed me a smile, then proceeded to, at least I assumed, demonstrate some of his newfound skills. He got a sideways smirk for his effort. “Care to translate for those of us who aren’t familiar with sign language?”

“I’m improving,” David cheered. “At least, that’s what she tells me,” he let out a brief sigh, carding a hand through his hair. His eyes scanning the floor while we walked to our lockers. “I hope Faith actually does mean that and isn’t stroking my ego.” Ahead of us, a blonde young woman began jumping up and down, waving in our direction. Hazel eyes maintained their lock on David through the ever-shifting waves of students going to class. The girl’s attempts at earning the swimmer’s attention began to slow as he failed to notice her.

“Eyes up, dude,” I shoved him gently. “Someone wants your attention.” David picked his gaze up from the floor to meet hers. His despondent wondering caved in a flash, a jubilant grin overtaking his face.

“That’s Faith,” the swimmer exclaimed.

“Clamoring for your attention,” I added. Faith ceased her waving and beckoned David to her. The swimmer took a step forward before pausing, giving me an uncertain glance. “What are you waiting for?” I nudged him forward. “Go.”

“You sure?” He asked, looking between the two of us. “You aren’t going to need help with Claire?” I rolled my eyes.

“She’ll never tell me anything with you there,” he did move forward two steps after the second shove. “Faith’s waiting for you. Get your ass over there,” David nodded slowly before taking off to converse with his crush. Faith wasted no time in striking up conversation, forming words with adroit motions well before he arrived at her locker. Confident no one would disrupt them, I left to find Claire.

“I don’t think he suspects anything,” my girlfriend’s voice cut through the droning noise of my schoolmates. The warbling of static followed her voice, warping the voice of whoever was speaking to Claire. “I don’t like lying to him like this.” Those words nearly stopped me in my tracks, but I pressed on, hoping she wasn’t referring to me. “He’s a nice guy and doesn’t deserve this,” the redhead sighed. More static erupted from her now visible phone. “No,” she gasped to the other end of the line. “That’s not what I'm saying at all. I know we need to do something, but perhaps we could do it another— Of course not! But—” I caught her attention with a gentle wave. Claire’s eyes widened at my sight, darting back and forth between her phone and myself. “I gotta go,” she hastily tossed her phone into her backpack, scrambling to close her locker.

“Do you have a minute?” I asked once I reached her. The redhead froze at my question. Her seconds long paralysis gnawed at my mind, dragging fears to the forefront while each breath caught in my chest waiting for her answer.

“I gotta get to class,” Claire evaded. She slammed her locker shut and walked around me.

“We can talk on the way,” I didn’t want to let her go. Not yet. I needed answers. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” my girlfriend said, taken aback.

“We haven’t spoken in two weeks. I would call that avoiding me.”

“I have my reasons,” Claire huffed. Her eyes narrowed. Nearby students began to watch our confrontation, drawn in by my questions and her defensiveness.

“Will you tell me your reasons?” I kept my voice even. Claire narrowed her eyes at me.

“I thought we were supposed to trust each other?” She asked, continuing to try and get around me. I wouldn’t let the matter go. Not this time.

“How can I trust you when you won’t tell me what the problem is? Why won’t you tell me?” Claire refused to answer. She stormed toward class, escaping my barrages of questions. “For god’s sake, Claire, say something.”

“You want me to say something?” My girlfriend barked, finally facing me. I opened my mouth to answer her but she continued on before I could say anything. “Fine. We’re done.” I froze. How could she mean that? What wrongdoing did I perpetrate against her? “Can I go?”

“…Why?” It was all I could say. Claire scoffed.

“You know why,” she spat. “You disappear from school for two weeks due to suspension. Have you any idea how your actions have affected me?” She never told me. “You should know better than to do things that are detrimental to your relationship. I hope you treat the next girl who walks into your life better.” I could only stare blankly ahead as my now ex walked off to class.

The day passed by in a distant blur. Nothing from my classes stuck, I didn’t even bother writing any notes to speak of. I was so lost in shock and wrapped up in the sudden break up that nothing else mattered. Whispers of our falling out spread amongst the students like wildfire. By the end of the day, it was all the younger students were talking about. Walking between classes became a veritable gauntlet of muted jabs, whispered wonders, and bizarre sympathy. I was on everyone’s lips, circulated on stories each wilder than the last.

I wanted nothing to do with them. The only respite I could find from the haunting words was during lunch. I sought shelter in Mr. Wright’s classroom. Not a word passed between us for that period, which suited me perfectly. Eventually, I could go home. I could leave the confines of my school and retreat to my only sanctuary free of prying eyes. From class to school bus I raced away from the drilling, gossip loving eyes circling around me.

“Hey,” David sat down next to me as the bus began to drive away from school. “What happened after we parted ways this morning?”

“You haven’t heard?” I ground out, keeping my eyes on the window. I really didn’t want to deal with this right now, or at all.

“I want to hear the truth of it,” the swimmer rested a hand on my shoulder. “I want to hear it from you. Not the rumors being passed about by sixth graders.”

“Claire broke up with me,” I mumbled. “What else is there to say.”

“I’m here to listen if you—,”

“I don’t,” I barked. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about the breakup. Not with anyone. David recoiled from my hostility, hand now gone from my shoulder. The swimmer nodded slowly before leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I couldn’t figure it out. Every scenario I ran through my head left me dazed and confused. I loved Claire, that much I knew, but apparently the opposite wasn’t true. The sun had long since set beyond the trees, a number of which had lost all their leaves already. I tightened my grip on Felix. He was the only one holding me together. Two simple words shattered my heart, a pain exacerbated by the lack of explanation. I thought I did everything right. I prioritized Claire in my schedule. Never missed a date nor was late to one. _Where could I have gone wrong?_ That thought refused to leave no matter how many times I forced it out of my mind. She cited my suspension as the reason, but it made little sense.

 _“Will,”_ Phaal’s voice somehow cut through the swirling _“Do you have time to speak?”_

 _“What do you want?”_ I sent back offhandedly.

 _“You're in pain,”_ the wolf jumped to a rather accurate conclusion. _“Who did this to you?”_

 _“This isn’t something that needs retaliation,”_ I picked my head up from Felix’s head, gaze casting out over the woods beyond the window. _“Where are you?”_

 _“Where we met several sunrises ago,”_ the wolf informed. _“I came to see you again. Have I come at a bad time?”_

 _“I don’t know,”_ I sighed. _“My girlfriend broke up with me. I still can’t figure out why she ended our relationship. She didn’t give me an explanation other than my suspension from school, but I don’t know what about it affected her so much. I sent her emails to stay in touch, but she never sent anything back.”_ A memory from the carnival flashed through my mind. _“Claire didn’t break up with me because of the bond you made did she?”_

 _“That is unlikely, Will,”_ Phaal said. _“Our connection is not deep enough for that.”_

 _“But the man at the carnival said others would begin to treat me differently,”_ I could feel tears welling up. _“He said it was already affecting those around me.”_

 _“Will, calm down,”_ Phaal’s voice was firm.

 _“Why should I?”_ I bellowed, throwing Felix at the window. _“My life is being turned upside down because of you. I am becoming a second monster in my life and the first in Claire’s. Why should I be calm when I am ruining the lives of others?”_ There was no immediate response. Perhaps I chased her off. It wasn’t my intent. My confusion was leading to anger. I was lashing out, leading me to become angrier as I said things I did not mean.

 _“I am sorry,”_ Phaal finally said something. _“I have not meant to cause you trouble. I will leave you alone for now. If you still feel this way four days from now, then I will break the bond connecting us.”_ The wolf said no more. A brittle sigh escaped my lips. I was an utter mess and I was taking it out on people around me. People who were willing to listen only to be spurned by my own sense of how I should handle my problems.

This wasn’t new. I was supposed to handle my problems on my own. I couldn’t burden others with problems I should be able to handle myself. The pain of the break up should be nothing for me to handle. It was nothing I couldn’t handle. I would take it in stride and get on with my life. Returning Felix to his hiding place in my closet, I left my room and began preparing dinner. Being a man required me to handle my problems or bury them. This was fine. This is how I’m supposed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, sorry about the late posting. Life's been real busy for me, but now things are starting to calm down. Thank you for your patience and continued reading.


	7. Chapter 7

The four days passed by without any unexpected events to speak of. Claire was now avoiding me altogether and the rumors circulating around the student body continued to grow wilder. The only one I found humorous was the one where I was supposedly a werewolf seeking to court a mate. My anger in regards to the recent events in my life subsided as time put the events behind me, partly due to David. His friendship was the only constant that kept me from feeling that my life was completely destroyed. He denounced the rumors wherever he could, but they never really stopped.

Soon enough the time came for me to give an answer to Phaal regarding the bond. She would destroy it if I desired it gone or let me keep it. It was a question that had no right answer, or I at least felt like it had no right answer. Sure I now had no obligations preventing me from keeping the bond, but events surrounding how I got it put me in this position in the first place. It had its perks, but I never did ask for it.

I waited at the clearing's edge for Phaal to arrive. Leaves drifted from their branches along the billowing wind passing through the forestry above. The few minutes left before our rendezvous did nothing but add to my already mounting stress. The scratchiness continued to pester the back of my mouth. Crisp water cascaded down my parched throat. I hadn’t actually decided what I wanted to do. I was torn in equal parts over my choices.A heavy sigh passed my lips, a more frequent occurrence, as I sealed my water bottle. There was more I needed to say to Phaal besides just yes or no.

A soft rustling from the foliage behind me noted the arrival of another. The creature skirting the perimeter bore the scents of grass and fear. It wasn’t Phaal, maybe a rabbit. _I can’t say I've had rabbit before. Perhaps I could make a decent stew out of it, but I’d need a brace of them to have enough meat._ It wasn’t worth the trouble and I’d already eaten. Another creature disturbed the brush, sending the rabbit fleeing for its life. An aroma of earth and sweat signified Phaal’s arrival. The wolf emerged from behind me, lying down next to me. _“Have you reached a decision?”_ Phaal asked as she rested her head on the cold grass.

“Not yet,” I shook my head. “But I have something I want to tell you.” The wolf picked up her head.

 _“And that is?”_ A heavy sigh preceded my words.

“I’m sorry. I blamed you for being dumped.”

 _“You do not need to apologize to me,”_ Phaal said. _“Though I sense you have more to say.”_

“I think,” I sighed, again. “I think this break up was a long time coming. The farther away I get from the event the more I can see the preceding events that may have signaled her lack of interest. Even if our bond somehow influenced her decision,” I laid my head back against the tree behind me, “then it only hastened what was inevitable. Which means,” I ran an unsteady hand over her fur. Phaal made no motion to object, letting me pet her. “I should have said thank you.” I received what must have amounted to an incredulous look from the wolf.

 _“You want to thank me?”_ Phaal asked.

“No matter how much this hurts,” I could feel the tears trying to break through the dam. “You’ve spared me from dealing with a worse break up in the future. So, thank you.” The wolf said nothing for a time, her gaze locked on my face.

 _“You are in a lot of pain,”_ Phall said. She rose to her feet, walking with slow, deliberate steps to meet me face to face. The wolf stopped only when our faces were a hairsbreadth apart. _“You can let it out.”_

“I’ll be fine,” I shook my head. “I can get through this.”

 _“Just because you can get by on your own does not mean you are better off that way,”_ Phaal chided. _“A pack is not an individual. We cooperate to survive,”_ gray eyes with streaks of emerald gazed into mine. Her eyes belonged to someone hardened by the wilds, but held only concern for the well being of another. Me. _“It’s important for you to not to bottle up your problems in some box deep inside you. Let it go.”_

“How?” I asked, choking back tears. “How can I? I’m supposed to be the strong one. The immovable rock that supports others. How is it okay for me to be supported by others?”

 _“We are part of the same pack,”_ Phaal rested her head on my shoulder. _“It is only natural for us to care for one another. I want to comfort you, but you need to let me in.”_ My hands slowly wrapped around the wolf’s neck.

I did. I opened the floodgates holding back my agony, showing my wounded heart to another for the, quite possibly, first time. Phaal made no motion to stop or leave me. She was someone who wanted me to lean on her and would stand by me as I unloaded all my grief and anger. _“No one else will know,”_ the wolf whispered. The tears did not stop quickly. The pain of the breakup, hurting mom, the monster that was my father, I bared it all for the wolf. An hour, maybe two, passed before I felt I had tossed a long-standing burden off my shoulders.

“Sorry for drenching your fur,” I wiped away the last of my tears.

 _“It matters not to me,”_ Phaal licked my cheek. _“How are you feeling?”_

“Compared to how I was feeling? Fantastic,” the rising tone in my voice supporting my claim. “Thank you, Phaal. I needed that.”

“ _I will shelter you whenever you need me,”_ the wolf declared. I pulled her close to me, earning no objection.

“I want to stay bound to you,” I whispered. “If you’ll keep me as part of your pack.”

 _“I do not recall you ever leaving,”_ Phaal chuckled. _“But do note this decision will be final. I will not give you another chance to walk away.”_

“I don’t want to walk away from a friend,” I smiled.

 _“Just a friend?”_ the wolf huffed. _“I suppose I can wait for you to come around.”_

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked with a furrowed brow.

 _“Exactly what it means,”_ Phaal chuckled as she evaded my question. _“Do you have time to spend with me?”_ I nodded. _“I want to recover the time that was lost, take me to your house.”_

“You want…” I raised an eyebrow at the wolf, “… to see my house?” Phaal nodded, tail wagging with reckless abandon. “Aren’t we supposed to keep a low profile? Aren’t there people who want us dead?”

 _“There aren’t any Pelters as far as I can tell in this town,”_ Phaal spoke assuredly.

“But they do exist,” I mused quietly as she practically dragged me to my feet. “That man wasn’t lying.”

 _“The reality of their existence doesn’t mean we should live in fear,”_ Phaal lead me along the path back to my house. _“What we do here will not alter their path. Let’s enjoy what time we have here together. But allow me to add that they will not harm you. I will protect you.”_

“Who are they?” I asked. “Their name implies they seek either fortune or glory.” Phaal broke from the path, beckoning me to follow her. The wolf stopped under the protection of a dense canopy, ears and nose alert for danger.

 _“They are murderers, Will,”_ she stated as I sat next to her. _“The Pelters seek to kill any and all magical creatures and their companions. You and I share a bond,”_ Phaal nudged my wrist. _“You are a target for them.”_

“Why?” my body tensed with my question. “What have you or I done to warrant being hunted?”

 _“They feel you have betrayed humanity by accepting my bond. I am a target for merely existing.”_ I buried my head into my knees, balling up in some vain effort to hide. I didn’t want to be hunted. I didn’t like being marked for death. But I didn't want to give up my bond either. Phaal was different because she was a wolf. She was the only one who let me expose myself as did earlier. David knew about Felix, yes, but I never broke down in front of him. All it took was one word from Phaal and I let out so much emotion. I didn’t hate that I showed weakness in front of her, I actually felt better for it, but I feared the fact death now haunted my shadow.

 _“Will,”_ Phaal pressed her head against mine. My gaze rose to meet hers. _“I will protect you. The Pelters will never succeed in harming you. I will make sure you are safe from them,”_ There was steel in her voice, a surety and resolve I saw in no one else. It was a confidence strong enough to dispel any fear. _“They will not hurt you.”_

“I feel like I should be the one protecting you,” I said, hand scratching behind Phaal’s ear. Her ears drooped.

 _“I don't want you protecting me,”_ her words barely a whisper in my mind. Gray eyes lost their resolve. _“You’re a gentle person. I don't want you forsaking that to fight for me,”_ Phaal’s confidence reappeared. _“Let me protect you. I know I can do so with you supporting me.”_

“If you want this weakling’s support,” I nodded. “You can have it.”

 _“A person’s strength is not dictated by pure physical prowess,”_ Phaal huffed. _“Do not belittle yourself because you are not what you think you should be. You have chosen to stand with me. That in itself is a sign of strength others do not have.”_

“You make it sound like I’ve fallen for you,” I chuckled.

 _“You will,”_ Phaal laughed. _“Now take me to your home.”_ We resumed our walk back to my abode. Phaal’s words both stung and charmed me. I wasn’t ready for another relationship, not that I could even date a wolf, but her implication that I was worth something did ease the pain of being dumped. Not a soul was in sight as we rounded the bend, bringing the house into view.

“No one’s going to see you, right?” A brief gust of wind circled around us in response to my question.

 _“Now they won’t.”_ I could practically see Phaal wink as she strode forward. _“It's a large house. Do you really need this much space?”_

“My parents bought the house just before my sister and I were born,” I said, following my companion forward. “They wanted a house they could grow into, which is why it has five bedrooms.”

 _“Why five bedrooms when they only had two pups?”_ Phaal asked.

“One of them is a guest room,” I clarified. “But the proper answer to your question is divorce,” I let my gaze linger on the second floor, wondering what my life could have been.

 _“I see,”_ Phaal stopped in front of the flower bed near the side door. _“Why do you have poisonous plants in is area?”_

“What?” I asked, turning to follow her gaze. “You mean the monkshood?”

 _“It’s poison,”_ the wolf spat. _“Why is such a thing here?”_

“My mom insisted on having some in each of the gardens around the house,” I said. The blue flowers adorning the stalks had begun to wither as a result of the cooling weather and recent frost. “I’m careful when I handle them. Though I would prefer to plant delphiniums instead.”

 _“You tend the garden?”_ Phaal asked with a tilted head. I sat down next to my companion.

“Yes. I used to help Mom when I was younger but now it’s just me that tends the three beds around the house. Not that there's much to do,” I shrugged. “Winter is coming soon. All I can do for the moment is prepare for the spring.”

 _“Your mother should give you free rein of the garden,”_ Phaal said. _“She shouldn’t be imposing on your hobby.”_ I threw the wolf a look.

“What makes you think gardening is a hobby of mine?”

 _“You’re smiling,”_ Phaal smiled, or so I thought. _“Thoughts of spring and what the flowers will look like bring you joy, as told by your smile. I would call gardening one of your hobbies if it makes you happy.”_ The supposed smile gracing my lips grew.

“I guess,” I turned away from the wolf. I didn’t want the red in my cheeks to show. I was never like this with Claire. What made Phaal so different? The shrill ringing of a telephone echoed from within the house, causing me to jump slightly at the sound.

 _“Are you always startled by such sounds?”_ my companion inquired.

“Humans don’t have your sense of hearing,” I groused as I entered the house. “Forgive me, if I don't expect to hear the phone at a volume I could only hear while next to it. Hello?”

“Hi Will,” Mom’s voice came through the line. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I shrugged. “Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

“You’re working late again,” I sighed. “Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Mom mirrored my frustration. “A couple people have called out sick and they need someone to cover for a time. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I shrugged again, as if she could see my reaction to this typical turn of affairs. “Just promise me you’ll eat something more than just a candy bar for dinner, alright?”

“I will do what I can,” she sighed.

“Mom,” I chided.

“Okay, okay,” she surrendered. “I promise to have a proper dinner.”

“Good,” I nodded. “See you tonight?”

“Tomorrow morning most likely,” Mom yawned. “I won’t be home until after you're in bed most likely.”

“Alright, take care of yourself.” Mom hung up without so much as a ‘good night.’ My gaze lingered on the phone as I returned it to its base. It would be another lonely night.

 _“Something the matter?”_ Phaal asked, nudging my leg.

“What are you doing in the house?” I looked down at her with a raised eyebrow.

 _“You left the door open,”_ she answered. _“I took it upon myself to enter as you did not tell me not to. It is also easier to maintain this spell of concealment the closer together we are.”_ A smile graced my shaking head. Phaal was certainly a headstrong wolf. One who never seemed to stop expressing concern for me. _“Now, tell me what about that call bothers you.”_

“Mom has to work late again,” I ran a hand along Phaal's head. “It’s just another lonely night in this house, that’s all.”

 _“Do you not have any friends to spend time with?”_ Phaal inquired, rubbing against my leg.

“I might have spent time with Claire were we still together,” I sighed. “My only other friend is often busy so I am often alone, particularly on Friday nights.”

 _“Not anymore,”_ Phaal spoke with steely confidence. _“I will keep you company.”_

“Are you sure?” I asked, sitting to look her in the eye. “Will this not expose us?”

 _“How can we be exposed if there is no one to see us?”_ Phaal asked. I didn’t have an answer for her. _“You are part of my pack, Will. I will not turn a blind eye to you. It is the alpha’s duty to care for the pack.”_ A bubbling warmth grew within me. Somehow, this wolf’s concern touched me in a way no one else had. It was like she vaulted right over every wall I threw up to ease the concern of others. She sought to support me, she didn't want me bottling up my worries and burying that bottle in the depths of my soul.

“Thank you,” it was all I could say. Phaal merely touched her nose to my palm. I indulged myself in her silent company until a low rumble broke the silence moments later.

 _“Should I go hunt for you?”_ Phaal asked with a chuckle.

“That won’t be necessary,” I laughed. “Let me make myself something to eat,” rising to my feet I closed the open door and walked to the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” Part of me doubted my companion wouldn’t want anything, but I wasn’t going to be a poor host simply because of an assumption.

 _“I’ve already hunted today,”_ Phaal answered. _“And I don’t want to take food away from my hungry pack.”_

“It’s not like I’m starving here,” I whined while eating a cold cut. The wolf didn’t say anything, preferring to sniff around the house. Phaal bounded upstairs as I finished my sandwich. I guessed she was making her way to my room, finding her way there with such a strong sense of smell would be an easy feat. Stepping into my room, I found my companion seated comfortably on my bed next to Felix. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable,” I smiled, sitting between her and Felix.

 _“Your scent is strongest here,”_ Phaal said matter of factly. _“I see no reason to be anywhere else.”_

“Glad to know you don’t find my scent repulsive,” I snarked, taking a bite out of my sandwich.

 _“It’s tame compared to other hunters,”_ my companion commented. _“But I like it, this is how a den should smell.”_ Her words slowed my motions to a crawl before stopping completely. What did she mean by that?

 _“By the way,”_ Phaal offered no explanation for her words. _“Who is this round cat on your bed?”_ I stared at her blankly for a few seconds before answering.

“That’s Felix,” I answered bashfully, watching the wolf from the corner of my eye. “He’s… a friend… who helps me through hard times,” heat and shame filled my cheeks. David was the only other one who knew I had Felix and did not judge me for it. I didn’t know how Phaal would view me owning a stuffed animal, but I apparently felt comfortable enough to share with her Felix’s purpose. Perhaps it was because she had already seen him so there was little point in hiding it.

 _“I see,”_ Phaal studied the stuffed animal for a moment longer. _“That would explain why he carries your scent so strongly,”_ she turned her gaze away from Felix to face me. _“He is well cared for, as he cares well for you. I’m glad you have such a companion to comfort you. But do not say you are alone in this house. Felix finds such words hurtful.”_ I looked at the stuffed animal then back to Phaal.

“What do you mean?” I asked, bewilderment pushing an eyebrow higher and higher. “You speak as if he is alive.”

 _“He is,”_ Phaal nodded. _“His is a budding life. One that you fostered unknowingly into existence. There is little he can do but listen at the moment, but he will grow if you continue to foster his growth.”_ Setting my empty plate on the nightstand, I pulled Felix into my lap. I felt nothing that denoted there was life in the spherical cat who had seen me through many bad days. He felt like he always did. Fuzzy, comforting, and free of judgment.

“How…” I paused to deliberate how I should ask my question. “How can you tell Felix is alive? I can’t sense anything.”

 _“I can sense the magic that brought him to life,”_ Phaal answered. _“I do not know all that goes into bestowing such life, merely that is often likened to spells that heal or provide succor of some type. Matron has mentioned that similar creatures more commonly found in Japan, there they have been given the name tsukumogami. All I know that it takes time and love to foster the growth of such a creature.”_

“Maybe I should keep you out of the closet,” I spoke to Felix softly, squeezing him gently.

 _“You keep him in the closet?”_ Phaal was shocked to hear me say that.

“Yes,” I nodded while keeping my head on top of Felix. “Guys my age would make fun of me for having Felix if they knew. They are all so focused on being men that anything they view as ‘unmanly’ is written off as either childish or girly. It’s the same with the adults in town as well. I’ve been told so many times that I’m the man of this house and that I need to act like it. Bearing any emotion to others outside of anger was never received well by anyone whenever I tried to lean on someone. They all told me to ‘man up.’ As a result, I could only bury my emotions and hope they never boiled over,” I squeezed Felix again. “I think he’s the only one who has kept me from blowing up.”

 _“You know have me as well,”_ Phaal wrapped her body around mine. _“You can lean on me as well.”_

“I thought I was doing that already,” I chuckled. “Felix is the only other one who knows how much I rely on him.” Not even David knew how much the stuffed animal had done for me. “Say,” I ran a hand along Phaal’s fur. “Would you teach me how to use magic?”

 _“You cannot hasten Felix’s growth,”_ Phaal deadpanned.

“I figured as much,” my hand ran over Felix’s head. “But I want to sense what you do in him. I want to see the life within him, and,” I fidgeted back and forth. “I think being able to use magic is kinda cool. I know I can’t use it whenever. That would put us at risk, wouldn’t it?” Phaal nodded, but said nothing. “I promise not to use magic without your supervision,” I couldn’t offer much more than that, but I wanted to know for myself that Felix was alive.

 _“At least you are aware of the risks,”_ Phaal chuckled. _“I will teach you, on the condition you teach me how to read.”_

“Wait,” I turned to look her in the eyes, incredulity lining my expression. “Your mother taught you the English language without teaching you how to read it?”

 _“Hunters do not use signs to communicate with each other,”_ the wolf jested while maintaining a serious tone. _“Matron believed it more important to teach me what to listen for. I wonder if she meant for me to learn from a member of my pack instead of her. She herself is bound to another.”_

“I see,” I scanned my room for what I could use for a lecture. “Ah,” I reached over to my desk and pulled a notebook and pencil back to the bed. “We can start with the English alphabet and go from there,” I propped Felix up on a pillow on one side of me while Phaal made herself comfortable on the other. “Is that acceptable?”

 _“It is, but I must admit I did not expect you to offer to teach me before I taught you,”_ the hunter mused.

“I guess it’s because you’ve done a lot for me already,” I smiled at my companion. “Let me do something for you today.”

 _“Very well, Will,”_ Phaal chuckled. _“Please begin.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hey all, thanks for reading and I hope you will continue to enjoy the story as it develops.


	8. Chapter 8

Rays of sunlight peered through cable slots in the blinds covering my bedroom windows. The scent of a morning frost crept through the one window cracked open to let the sounds of nature and fresh air enter. Everything save the blaring of an alarm was primed to urge me out of bed and enjoy the day, but I had no desire to move. Warm sheets shielded me from the encroaching rime touched air. Felix rested jovially on my nightstand, presumably ruminating on all he learned last night. Warm fur protected whatever skin was exposed from the bitter nipping brought on by every gust of wind. _Wait…_

Bolting upright, I turned to find Phaal dozing quietly on my pillow. An ear flicked at my movement, but nothing more. “What the hell?” I shouted quietly. “Why are you still here?”

 _“Because it was easier to stay than to leave,”_ the wolf remarked, opening her eyes slowly. _“Rest assured, I was not seen during my stay. Your mother did not even bother to see if you were indeed here. She ate the food you set aside from dinner last night, then went straight to bed. She has not left her den since.”_ I let out a soft sigh of relief.

“I see,” I carded a hand through her fur, then noticed the notebook and pencil on the floor beside the bed. “Sorry. I did not mean to fall asleep during my own lecture.”

 _“Do not apologize,”_ Phaal nudged her head under my hand. _“Your dozing came at a good time. It gave me time to ruminate on your teachings and commit much of my learning to deeper memory.”_ She hummed as my hand scratched behind her ears. _“Seeing your slumbering face was a bonus worthy of the risk. To see you slumber so peacefully…”_ the wolf chuckled. _“I want to keep that beautiful sight to myself.”_

“Are you ever going to stop telling me such things?” A twinge of red colored my cheeks.

 _“Only if it ever stops being true, which will never happen,”_ Phaal gave me something akin to a wink. _“Need I remind you I am chasing your heart?”_ I averted my gaze as I pondered her words.

“I don’t think I’m ready for another relationship,” I demurred. “My aching heart is not ready to commit to another so soon after a breakup.”

 _“Say no more,”_ the wolf jumped from my bed to the floor. _“I will not pressure you into anything more.”_

“Thank you,” I offered Phaal, someone I perhaps began to consider a friend, a genuine smile. “Now,” I rose from my bed. “I should let you out as you probably want to hunt and I need to start breakfast.”

 _“I can leave through the window if you open it more,”_ the wolf pointed her nose at the gap between sill and frame.

“Are you sure?” I asked while sliding the window and its screen out of her way. “I doubt Mom is up so we can just—,” Phaal jumped through the open window to the ground below. Descending from the second floor posed no problem whatsoever for the hunter. “Sneak downstairs.”

 _“I do not want to trouble you with an effort we can circumvent,”_ Phaal looked at me from the backyard. _“Find me when you’re ready for your first lesson in magic,”_ she bounded off into the woods, seeking whatever prey would become her meal. I went to shower after the wolf bounded out of sight. _I’d better start on breakfast once I’m done._

“Good morning, William,” Mom said as she rounded into the kitchen. Unkept hair and attire that was fit for nothing but lazing about showcased a long night. The hospital was likely overrun with college kids in need of medical attention for their reckless antics.

“Morning,” I returned with a smile as I moved omelettes from the stove to plates. “Just in time.”

“You’re certainly in a good mood this morning,” Mom chuckled, preparing a cup for coffee. “I thought you’d still be more somber given your breakup.”

“I guess I’ve come to terms with it, more or less,” I shrugged. “It still hurts, but I gave the whole thing some thought and I think it may have been a long time coming.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked, setting a glass of orange juice on the table then sat with her coffee.

“For a while, she seldom made direct eye contact with me.” I took a bite out of my omelette before continuing, “There were a couple times she called off dates yet spoke to her friends about how she went out when we would have been on a date.” Mom raised an eyebrow.

“You never bothered to ask her about that?” incredulity colored her words. “Sounds like she may have been cheating on you.” I turned my gaze away from my mom toward the woods beyond through the window overlooking the sink.

“I never wanted to assume that,” I despaired. “But maybe that was what she was doing,” I shook the thought away. “Regardless, it doesn’t matter. If she was cheating, then I am free of her. If not, then I am free of her.”

“Ever an optimist,” Mom rolled her eyes, before casting them down at her breakfast. “But, you know,” she poked at the omelette with her fork. “You should have considered how your actions at the police station would affect her.”

“What do you mean?” Green eyes bored into me.

“You ran off to explore facilities you were not permitted to and got bitten by a rabid dog as a result.”

“So I am being blamed for Animal Control failing to update its rusting cages now?” I deadpanned.

“No,” Mom adopted a more authoritative tone. “But had you not been vaccinated, odds are you would be dead.”

“A fate you saw to avert,” I reminded, taking a sip from my juice. “Or one I would have taken measure to save myself from.”

“That is not an excuse to take reckless action,” she snapped. “You were fortunate that the _beast_ chose to flee and not kill you.” There was that word again. Beast. Spoken with a preternatural dread as if it were something that stalked people in the dead of night. Waylen seemed to revel in the word, unlike Mom. Waylen I could write off as merely being off his rocker, but Mom… What if they were referring to the same thing… _Could they be Pelters?_ “What?”

“Huh?” Mom’s single worded question snapped me back from my daydream.

“You’re staring at me like I’ve said something wrong,” she glowered. I wanted to tell her Phaal wasn’t evil, that she was helping me get over my breakup, but I couldn’t. If Mom was a Pelter, that would mean she wanted Phaal dead. I couldn’t expose her to one who would kill her. “Do you have something you wish to protest?”

“No,” I replied curtly, then proceeded to finish my breakfast without saying another word to my mother. The gravity of my newfound secret begun to set in. I couldn’t tell Mom anything about the wolf that had recently vacated the house. David was the only other one who knew, and some unknown entity told me I could trust him, but only him. Even then, it might have been wise to limit just how much I tell him, if only to keep him safe from the Pelters. I carried my dishes to the sink with a sigh. I’d just begun to let down the mask I’d worn for so long, only to have to wear another in its stead.

“I hope you know that I only say these things because I care about you,” Mom rested a hand on my shoulder, setting her dishes into the sink with the other.

“I know that,” I answered with muted appreciation. Cold water slowly warmed as I began cleaning what dishes were in front of me. “But if I may ask,” I needed to know. I needed to know where Mom stood. “You seem to be implying something, what is it?” My mother’s hand dropped from my shoulder. I felt her gaze pass by me to the trees, a threadbare scent of what I would only describe as fear hidden beneath the otherwise stoic emeralds taking in the sight of golden leaves wilting in the cooling weather.

“There are many things in this world that are the stuff of nightmares,” my mother finally said after a time. “I haven’t tried to shelter you too much from the world, but…” her arms wrapped around me in a loving hug. It was a rare act for her in recent years, but the notion that she may be a Pelter left me unsure how to take the motherly affection. “There are some monsters that I will always shelter you from. I do not wish for you to ever meet such bloodthirsty horrors,” fear and resolve laced her words in equal measure.

“What exactly do you mean?” I inquired. The implication was stronger, but remained nebulous. I heard nothing for a moment, save for the clanking of dishes against each other on the drying rack. Eventually, Mom pulled away from me.

“I’m sorry, William,” she whispered. “But I can’t say anymore. I’m going to take it easy today. The car is yours if you want it,” heavy footsteps carried her out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into her bedroom, the door pushed shut with minimal force. I pondered her words and solemn exit as I got ready to meet up with Phaal. Something changed in Mom when our discussion shifted to beings like Phaal, or so I guessed. Beasts. There must have been a deeper meaning, but what? It was possible there was a difference between Phaal and what seemed to be called beasts, but I had no way to confirm that. _Perhaps I should just ask Phaal about all of this._

The wolf never said where to meet, but I suspected she would be waiting for me in the clearing that we both seemed drawn to. Sure enough, Phaal sat under a tree at the clearing’s edge behind a static pile of transient leaves. To be honest, I knew where she was because of her scent long before I saw the wolf at all. Phaal watched me as I crossed the open space, backpack in tow. The scent of blood lingered in my nostrils and grew stronger as I approached. I knew she was hunting, but the pungent odor was far stronger than I expected or wanted.

 _“Is something the matter?”_ Phaal asked.

“I can smell blood,” I answered honestly, trying to avoid showing any unease.

_“Are you disgusted?”_

“No,” I shook my head. “But I am not used to the strong scents I now find myself surrounded by,” I sat next to her with a sigh. “I can hardly separate the odors there are so many. Even now there are so many scents I struggle to comprehend them all. How do you handle it?”

 _“I don’t know if I can give you an answer to that, Will,”_ Phaal answered. _“That would be like me asking you how do you handle walking on two legs. I believe that with time, you will accustom yourself to your enhanced senses. But let us move on to your first lesson regarding magic.”_

“Works for me,” I chirped.

 _“Come,”_ the hunter rose from her seat, marching off into the woods as I followed. _“Magic is everywhere,”_ Phaal began explaining. _“It exists in all living creatures. You, me, even those who live their lives oblivious to magic. It is all part of what makes us who we are.”_

“How does magic go unnoticed?” I asked, walking aside my companion as she guided me to some unknown destination.

 _“Do you notice your breathing?”_ Phaal asked. _“Or do you only notice when you think about it?”_ I shrugged.

“Fair enough,” I shrugged. “I take it magic is also invisible?”

 _“To the human eye, yes,”_ Phaal quickly turned right, heading up. _“There are some creatures that can sense magic, but few of those rare creatures remain. Humans need to cast a spell to see magic with the exception of loci. That being said, spells and the like are visible. Have I lost you?”_

“Not yet,” I smirked. “I can still follow your scent even if I can’t see you.” Phaal had been using the undergrowth to hide from sight as we continued to ascend the hillside. She wasn’t easy to track, but her scent was distinct enough from the surrounding foliage that I could follow her. All of that changed when her scent vanished without a trace. “Phaal?”

 _“Someone draws near,”_ was all she said.

“Yes, it is autumn,” Chief Andrews emerged from behind a tree further up the hill. “But I don’t see why you’d be saying that now.” My foot slid on wet earth as I stepped back from the police chief’s arrival, sending me to kiss the ground with my butt.

“Chief Andrews?” I asked, rising back to my feet. “What are you doing out here?” The officer wasn’t dressed in his uniform or his more common plain clothes cover, choosing forest camo and blaze orange instead.

“Attempting to clean up the mess _you_ walked into,” he laughed. “You haven’t seen the rabid dog that ran away by any chance have you?”

“If I had I would have reported it,” I answered. I kept my distance from the officer. The odds of him finding Phaal were slim, but the fact he was out actively looking for her wasn’t a good sign. “Do you think it has reason to hide out here?”

“I have a lot of ground to cover,” Andrews scoffed. “I thought it prudent to start with the woods that are closest to residential areas.”

“That really narrows your search area down,” I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t get uppity with me, boy,” the chief of police snarled, summoning a twinge of fear to rattle through my bones. “You’re the reason I’m stuck searching for the damn canine.”

“Then why’d you defend me back at the pound?” Andrews walked forward, forcing shrubs out of his way as twigs snapped under his heavy steps.

“Because I did not believe you responsible for letting the dog loose,” he yapped. “But your actions have earned me a great deal of trouble,” the chief of police stopped centimeters before me, eyes narrowing into daggers. “Care to become a deputy?”

“With all due respect,” I said shakily as I sidestepped Andrews and put some healthy distance between us. “I doubt that a single rabid dog constitutes an emergency, and I am a minor so that would also rule me out,” I found Andrews to be a decent enough member of law enforcement, but this interaction left me feeling like prey being toyed with by a hunter.

 _“Be careful, Will,”_ Phaal ordered, from wherever she was.

“I see you’ve been paying attention in class,” Andrews chuckled. “You’re right. I cannot deputize you,” he gestured for me to follow him, “but I can escort you home. It’s rather dangerous out here.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I shook my head fervently, my voice cracking. Sirens wailed in my head endlessly. Something was wrong. Andrews was fishing for something. “I know how to get back home,” I pointed to a trail descending the hill. “It won’t take me long.”

“It would be a shame if I had to deliver a message to Sarah that you were injured in a hunting accident,” the chief of police snarled, more threat than warning.

 _“Will you need to leave,”_ Phaal howled in my head. _“Now!”_

“Mr. Wilhelm doesn’t permit hunters on his property,” I whimpered while walking gingerly down the trail. “I’ll be fine on my own,” I felt the police chief glower at me as I left him on the hillside. The pressure exerted by Andrew’s hazel eyes pushed me down the hill, leading me to slip on leaves caught underfoot as I was more concerned with the officer who took an interest in me.

“Sarah really needs to remarry,” Andrews sighed, beginning to head back the way Phaal and I originally came up the hill. “That boy really needs some guidance on being a man,” something caused the chief of police to slip. Andrews unleashed a storm of profanities after the fall, before storming off deeper into the woods, shouting all the while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for the late posting. Life has been busy and motivation in somewhat short supply. 2020 has been one hell of a year. Anyways, thanks for reading. -DA139


	9. Chapter 9

The sight of home had never been so great a relief. Practically flinging off my hiking boots, I raced up the stairs at a walking pace. The television in Mom’s bedroom droned on as I passed by, soft snoring echoed through the ajar door underneath the laugh track from the soap opera. A fear fueled hand slammed the door gently closed. My encounter with Chief Andrews left my heart pounding. He was one of the few people who could have known that Phaal was the one locked in the pound. And apparently determined to see her locked away again.

“God, that was terrifying,” I exhaled. Andrews hadn’t followed me home as I feared he would, not that he didn’t know where I lived, but the man certainly cast a long shadow. Almost everyone in town would let him in without a second thought. If he was searching for Phaal, then she would be a risk every time I saw her.

A heavy sigh fell from my lips as I sat on the bed. I pulled Felix into my lap from his new seat on the nightstand while reflecting on the many meanings of Andrews’ presence in the woods. “I don’t know what we’re going to do, Felix,” I sighed again into the cat’s head. “It seems like we’re surrounded by potential enemies. Phaal hasn’t contacted me since we parted ways with Andrews. She said to avoid contacting her, but I’m worried. I doubt I’ll be able to rescue her if she gets caught again. The police will surely keep an eye on me if I were to show up at the station without good reason,” I let out another heavy sigh. “Please let Phaal be okay.”

 _“Andrews is a rather meticulous person,”_ Phaal's voice finally rang in my head. _“He is still scouring the woods.”_

 _“Phaal!”_ The sound of her voice snapped me to attention. _“Are you okay?”_

 _“I am fine,”_ she huffed. What a relief. I set free the breath seized by my lungs while falling back onto the bed. I couldn’t keep a smile from tugging at my face. _“Andrews isn’t capable enough to find me. He’s not a Pelter.”_

 _“So…what makes Pelters so special?”_ It seemed appropriate to ask that question now that I heard Phaal use that name multiple times when she spoke of those who hunted beings like her, and myself for that matter.

 _“Pelters are hunters with specialized tools and skills to capture and killing creatures with power beyond what they deem acceptable,”_ there was overt snarling in Phaal’s explanation, she resented Pelters with every fiber of her being. _“Any non-human native to this world with power beyond what the Pelters have arbitrarily determined as safe are deemed hostile to humanity and must be eliminated.”_

 _“And because of our bond,”_ I held my marked wrist in front of my face. _“I am also a target.”_

_“Yes. The Pelters see you as a traitor to humanity and will be marked for death if any find out. I cannot stress enough how much you must hide the brand, the physical sign of our bond, from everyone. The brand alone is all a Pelter needs to label you a traitor.”_

_“About that,”_ letting my wrist fall to my forehead, I closed my eyes and forced myself to tell her the truth. _“One of my closest friends has seen the brand, and someone else who didn’t seem human.”_ For a time, there was nothing. No sound. No messages in my head. Nothing.

 _“Foolish human,”_ Phaal bellowed, shocking me upright. _“Do you have any idea how dangerous it was to show them your mark?”_

 _“David found out before I even knew what it meant,”_ I defended. _“You never told me what it meant. I had to learn about it from another.”_

 _“Someone told you about the mark’s function?”_ Phaal asked, incredulity coloring every word.

 _“Someone named Belladonna explained it to me,”_ the man’s explanation ran through my head as I recalled the scene, _“although he didn’t call it as such, and what it meant. He also explained that people would be hunting me for our bond… Did it not occur to you that I believed your assertions about the world far too easily?”_

 _“…Now that you mention it, you were more accepting of your circumstances than I expected,”_ Phaal admitted. _“Perhaps my wrath is somewhat misplaced,”_ Phaal sighed. _“Do you trust David?”_

 _“I do,”_ I nodded with a smirk. Even though I couldn’t see her, my body acted as if this was a face to face conversation. _“He has been a friend of mine for ten years. I know he will not betray me.”_

_“Is there anyone you think might have connections to a Pelter?”_

_“I…”_ I tightened my grip of Felix as I sighed again, adding to an unknown number at least in the double digits. _“I don’t know, Phaal. I think my mom might.”_

 _“What makes you say that?”_ anger, confusion, and, most strongly, worry coated Phaal’s question.

 _“She spoke to me earlier about creatures lurking in the dark corners of the world, beasts she called them. I don’t know if she’s done anything, but she doesn’t seem interested in killing me.”_ A moment of silence filled my mind before my friend said anything.

 _“Do you feel safe living with her, Will?”_ Phaal asked, voice laden with worry.

 _“I don’t know, Phaal,”_ I answered, pulling Felix closer. _“But I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”_

_“I can teach you how to live in the woods. You don’t have to live in a Pelter’s shadow.”_

_“I don’t think that’s going to work,”_ I interjected, but she wasn’t listening.

 _“I can protect you. You can live elsewhere while still living your life here,”_ Phaal’s voice carried a hint of desperation. _“I will protect you.”_

 _“Phaal,”_ I shouted over her. _“I will be fine. Mom won’t hurt me.”_

 _“…Are you sure…?”_ The wolf wondered. _“You say she might have a connection to a Pelter. She could even be one. If that is true, then you will be living in constant danger.”_

 _“I am bound to a wolf,”_ I shrugged. _“When won’t I be living in danger?”_

 _“This is not a trifling matter, Will,”_ Phaal admonished. _“Pelters are not to be underestimated. You may not be my mate, but you are part of my pack. I will not let the Pelters murder any member of my pack.”_

 _“I’m sorry,”_ my condolences probably meant nothing, but they were all I could provide. It wasn’t my intent to upset her.

 _“You don’t need to apologize,”_ Phaal remarked with continued dismay. _“You are new to this. We live in a cruel world, Will. There are very few who suffer worse than we do. Our friends are few in number and seldom within reach. It will be difficult to protect you if you are living within the shadow of a Pelter.”_

 _“Phaal,”_ I kept my voice as even as I could. _“I will be fine. If Mom was going to do something, she would have done so already. It will be worse for us if I up and disappear for no reason. It might just be better for us to lie low and go about our lives normally for a while. If you’re still worried, you can always teach me more about magic so I can protect myself.”_ Phaal’s silent contemplation sparked a tension building in every muscle. I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t want to keep the life I had, but vanishing into thin air only to appear at school would only lead to questions I could not answer. Rumors would spawn from those questions and my mother would make it her personal mission to hunt me down, Pelter or not. Terrifying as it was, staying put and maintaining the visage I’d been using felt like the better course of action.

 _“Very well, Will,”_ she finally acquiesced. _“We will lie low for the time being. I am going to fast-track your magical studies so you may—”_ sudden rapping at my chamber door pulled me away from Phaal’s voice.

“Will,” Mom called through the door. “Are you alright?”

 _“We’ll have to continue this conversation later, Phaal,”_ I cut off whatever sentence the wolf was speaking. _“Mom wants to talk and her conversations are seldom short.”_

 _“Please be cautious,”_ the wolf pleaded.

 _“I promise you I will be careful,”_ I returned before opening the door to my bedroom. Mom stood with eyes both heavy and distant. “I’m fine, Mom. Do you need something?”

“…May I… come in?” My mother asked, hands rising before rapidly falling to her sides as if unsure they should take any action.

“Sure,” I backed away to let her through. Mom cast her eyes over my room as she walked by me.

“I’m amazed at how you keep it so clean,” she mused.

“It’s easier to do when you have time on your hands,” I chuckled while closing the door behind her. “I’m amazed your job hasn’t broken you yet.”

“Well, when you have a family to provide for,” she exhaled as she sat on the bed. “You’ll put up with a lot to make sure your family is fed, clothed, and housed,” she ran a hand along Felix’s head. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

“Felix has done much for me,” my face tightened at the implication. “I will not be getting rid of him just because I am sixteen.”

“You’re nearly a man, now, Will,” Mom cast her gaze out to the woods. “There will come a time when you won’t be able to indulge in childish activities.”

“And keeping a stuffed animal is childish?” I raised my eyebrow at her.

“You’re sixteen, Will,” my mother’s tone soured. “You’ve grown up faster than many of your peers, but in some ways, you lag behind them. I don’t see any other boys your age with a stuffed animal in their bedrooms.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t have Felix because my male peers would get rid of him?” I inquired, narrow eyes paired with heavy words.

“What do you think they’ll say to you if they found out?” She asked eyebrow raised. “I don’t want my son being made fun of.” I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling.

“I’m already being teased for the amount of housework I’m doing,” I scoffed. “Learning about Felix wouldn’t change much,” Mom opened her mouth to say something but I didn’t give her a chance. “Besides, I don’t have many enemies. No one is going to find out about him, unless _you_ plan on telling them.”

“I would never,” aghast was the only way to describe her expression.

“Then why does it matter whether or not I keep Felix?” I frowned. “He’s been a great comfort when I’ve had no one else to lean on,” this conversation was one of the prime reasons I kept Felix in the closet. Part of me wanted to shove him back into the closet and end the conversation immediately. The part that won out though didn’t have the heart to hide away my friend who had a life all his own.

“Because it’s unmanly,” Mom glowered. There it was. Unmanly. A word by which men should live in fear of as if such a label would deplete you of all your worth. The final metric meaning a man had hit rock bottom. “I’m sorry,” my mother sighed, guiding stray hairs behind her hair. “Perhaps you would have been better off having your father raise you.”

“My father?” I raised an eyebrow. A seething simmer heated my blood. “Why?”

“You never had much by the way of a male role model growing up,” Mom offered me an apologetic look focused on the bookshelf behind me. “I wonder if you would have been better off if you had gone with your father instead of staying with me.”

“I think I’ve grown up just fine without that monster,” I ground out. Mom’s eyes widened. She pressed her hand to her chest.

“How can you possibly label him a monster?” She spat, eyes narrowing to thin daggers.

“Quite easily,” I deadpanned. Mom rose from the bed maintaining her glower.

“Then you do not remember him,” she snapped, stomping past me.

“I remember the fights,” Mom froze as her hand twisted the doorknob. I turned my head to follow her. “Do you?”

“Your father and I never fought,” she huffed. The door rattled against its frame as Mom yanked on the knob. “We may have had our disagreements, but we never fought.”

“So the nightly shouting matches weren’t fighting?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

“You…” my mother crept back to face me. Her hand kept its grip on the doorknob. “You remember?”

“I don’t remember the subject matter,” I shook my head. The bitter resurfacing memories brought my blood closer to a boil. “But I remember you and Dad shouting quite regularly before the divorce. He was furious about something you wouldn’t give in to his demands, which made him angrier. You lost yourself for a while when you fought. It wasn’t until well after the divorce that you started to regain any sense of normalcy.” The moment of silence that followed my recollection lasted forever. Mom’s empty expression slowly turned downward. Crestfallen eyes stared at the floorboards.

“I’m surprised you remember,” droplets formed in the corners of Mom’s eyes. “I thought you would have forgotten all about those nights.”

“Lina and I would hole up in either my room or hers with the door cracked and listen,” tears of my own began forming from remembering the nights my sister and I sheltered each other from the anger consumed fights. “We were terrified our family was falling apart and that we would be separated.”

“Then the divorce was finalized and your worst nightmare came true,” Mother finished my memory for me. I could merely nod. “You miss her, don’t you?”

“She’s my sister,” I croaked. “How could I not miss her? Don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Mom pulled me into her arms. I returned the embrace. Tears began to fall onto my shoulder, sending mine onto hers. “I miss my little Lina. How could I not?” She rasped. “You two mean everything to me. I wish she was here,” Mom continued to cry into my shoulder. “I miss you two playing in the living room together. So much time was taken from us. Time I’ll never get back.”

“You still have me, Mom,” the pain of losing Lina hit us both hard in many ways, I was hit harder than Mom was in some, and vice versa. I lost my sister. She lost her daughter. We passed moments I never bothered to count comforting each other as we recalled the loss unfairly thrust upon us. Pain, anger, and longing we long kept suppressed burst forth keeping us in miserable company.

“I’m sorry,” Mom said after some time. “I don’t mean to discount you,” she wiped the tears cascading down her cheek. “You mean just as much to me as Lina. I just miss her.”

“I know you miss her,” I smiled through my own tears. “I miss her too.” A low rumble precluded my chance to say more. A faint scowl formed behind the falling drops still cascading over my cheeks. “Mom…”

“I was going to eat after my nap,” she smiled sheepishly.

“I should probably eat something myself,” I chuckled. “Come on,” I pushed Mom out of my room. “I’ll makes us lunch.”

Magic inhabited everything. Plants, animals, even stone and metal. It could move freely from one object to another or reshaped to serve any number of purposes. Phaal’s explanation left me with an invisible atomic, or subatomic, particle somehow undetectable my modern instruments, a strange image that she didn’t fully deny. Humans had long since lost the ability to detect magic, save for the few groups who kept the skill of spell casting alive, but it was a skill that could be learned. If only learning it was easy.

The clay pot felt lifeless, the seed planted within just as still. No matter how long I stared or squinted at them, I felt nothing more than the extra twitch of vibrancy that I detected in the woods. Out there it was so much clearer, the result of density rather than sensitivity.

 _“Which is why you never dance with wolves,”_ Phaal proudly stated.

 _“Wait, what?”_ I blinked repeatedly. Phaal let out a heavy sigh.

 _“You aren’t paying attention, are you?”_ I could feel her glowering at me across whatever distance separated us.

 _“Sorry,”_ I scratched my head. The meticulous nature of the lesson proved too taxing to follow after the emotional roller coaster preceding the lecture. _“Perhaps we should stop here.”_

 _“Yes,”_ Phaal concurred. _“We will stop here. Perhaps we should break up the lesson more. Let’s resume tomorrow for a shorter period of time.”_

 _“Sounds good to me,”_ I nodded.

 _“Good night, Will,”_ my companion uttered stoically before adopting a softer tone barely above a whisper, _“Please watch your back.”_

 _“I will,”_ something seemed to prevent my response from reaching Phaal. Telepathy with Phaal was easy enough, but a wall of some sort blocked my attempt to contact her. Maybe there was some sort of magical interference. Perhaps she wanted to be alone. I had no way of knowing, but I placed my bet on the latter.

I stretched my arms over my head. I’d been sitting for far too long. A notebook logged a series of detailed notes before trailing off into mere scribbles. A hefty yawn forced its way out. “I should review this stuff,” I muttered.

The scant hours I spent learning from Phaal regarding the basics of magic produced no results of any kind. Truthfully, I didn’t expect to see any results, but my enthusiasm certainly took a hit. My friend assigned me the homework of training my ability to sense magic. The bond I shared with Phaal provided an element of exposure that increased my sensitivity to magic by default, but only by a small percentage.Heavy eyelids slowed and eventually forced my review to end. I’d done so little today yet that little bit was enough to exhaust me.

A sudden gust of wind blustered in from outside, drowning out my frustration and fatigue. The overnight storm was upon us. It was that calm intensity everyone knew was the immediate harbinger of the storm forecasted for the day. It wouldn’t be a quiet night, not with a storm strong enough to provide prior warning. Just like that, a soft patter of rain fell on the window sill that quickly turned into a pelting deluge. Thunder cracked overhead moments after I shuttered the open windows.

“Here’s hoping this doesn’t freeze overnight,” I mused. My fingers rapped against the aging wood before I deactivated the LED desk lamp. Darkness washed over everything, the battering rain denying silence any chance to reign. A flash of lightning pierced through the blinds covering my windows to cast sudden but long shadows across the walls while thunder boomed among the clouds. I surrounded myself with the sounds of the squall, losing myself in its power. The pounding pellets, blinding bolts, and crackling cannonade, all of it was within arms reach, but I wasn’t going to go out into this storm. I had my doubts that standing in the storm would help me connect with some primal source of power, holding onto a lightning rod was also out of the question.

Taking my yawn as a cue, I shed my clothes and climbed into bed. The surging storm would continue well into the night, lulling me to sleep as Felix kept me company through my gentle slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm more on time this month with posting, yay! It's hard to believe that nine months have passed and this pandemic isn't going anywhere. I hope this story can make your day a little better in lieu of everything going on. -DA139


	10. Chapter 10

Raised voices echoed into my sister’s room from the first floor. Muffled anger colored indiscernible words as our parents argued again for the third night straight, our parents’ rage more terrifying than the darkness surrounding us. Lina and I hid ourselves under the sheets with only a nature book and a flashlight to keep us company. A bitter chill whispered in through the windows. The bubble of heat sheltering us from the cold demanding we stay together lest the warmth escape into the frigid night. Lina held the flashlight as I slowly turned through the pages of the book.

“You don’t understand,” my father’s voice rang through the house, clear as day. The wrathful tones forcing me to flinch despite me not being his target.Lina jumped slightly, but then pulled me close as we nestled in our makeshift shelter. “It’s more than us. It needs to be done!”

The rage subsided for a moment, enough for me to turn the page.

“You said this wouldn’t happen!” My mother shrieked. “You promised this wouldn’t happen! How do you expect to make things right?” Their fury returned to its muffled state before continuing to hurl questions and insults.

“They’re very angry tonight,” I lamented. My sister rustled my hair.

“We’re fine,” Lina whispered. “Nothing bad is going to happen to us.” I inched closer to her, her carding strokes bringing me some comfort.

“I hope so,” I sighed. “Dad sometimes mutters about taking one of us. I don’t want us to be separated.”

“They won’t separate us,” Lina nudged me. “We’re inseparable,” she forced the laugh accompanying her statement. “They can’t separate us. We’ll be fine.” I wasn’t sure we’d be fine. But if Lina thought we’d be fine… I could trust Lina. With my worries put aside, I returned to the book before us with renewed interest. Time passed unaccounted for while we hid from a tempest of parental fury. Perhaps I should have kept better track. For Lina was gone the next day.

That bitter memory played out in my head over and over. It came back to me in my sleep, stealing any chance to sleep peacefully. Incessant chatter flowing endlessly from the passing crowd of students milling about before the start of classes. I took another sip of my coffee as the throes of sleep held tight to my mind. It was going to be a long day.The cold stone wasn’t the greatest spot to lean my head against, but it would work until the start of school.

“Hey, Will,” a voice called out to me. _So much for napping before my academic counseling._ Opening my eyes I found Sophia standing over me. Blue eyes flicked to my coffee then back to me. “Are you okay?” The sixth grader asked.

“Yeah,” I yawned, sitting up from the wall. “I just didn’t sleep well. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah,” she chirped. Stepping aside Sophia presented, rather dragged, a boy her age before me. Brown hair and eyes accompanied a dour scowl ready to fracture. Droplets crested his eyes but never fell. He was trying so hard to keep himself together. “My friend Lucas was recently dumped by his girlfriend and I thought you could help him.”

“I’m fine,” Lucas pouted. He shifted his gaze away from us toward some distant target of no particular interest. _Yeah. I know that feeling._ Sophia threw him a pleading glare, hoping to encourage to get him to do something. But he didn’t budge. Lucas didn’t walk off, but he didn’t ask for help. Knowing him, and most boys in general, it was unlikely he would ask for help and simply try to deal with it. It was what we were taught. But he needed help and I couldn’t very well leave him alone without trying.

“Well, I can safely say for a fact that being broken up with sucks,” I stretched my neck while talking to no one in particular. I won Lucas’ attention with that statement, but he still said nothing. “One moment your life is great and the next it just sucks.”

“It’s not fair,” Lucas muttered. It was a relatable sentiment, but perhaps not a positive one.

“Did you like her?” I asked. The boy nodded weakly.

“Duh,” he quietly remarked. “But,” he locked eyes with me. “There’s this new kid. She says he’s cute. They stared going out while we were still going out. She dumped me when I saw them together.

“So that’s how it is,” I mused, taking a long draught of coffee. I laughed internally at my actions, trying to seem cooler in an effort to help this kid. “I know it doesn’t seem fair, but she made a decision to leave you. You need to respect that. She is her own person and is free to leave you whenever she wants.” Lucas winced at my words. I needed to tell him the truth and it would be a bitter pill to swallow. But it wasn’t all terrible news for him.

“With that being said however,” I smiled. “Sounds to me like you’ve dodged a bullet.”

“How so?” Lucas nearly cried, yet still soft to avoid arousing attention.

“If she left you for some new kid, then I suspect she’ll leave him for another new kid,” I took another sip from my thermos. “Yes, you liked her. But she won’t be the last girl you like. One who will treat you right as you’ll treat her right.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Lucas deadpanned.

“And it won’t feel like it immediately,” I nodded. “You need some time to yourself and that’s okay. Break ups hurt and you need to heal from that.” Lucas said nothing for a time, ruminating on what I told him. Eventually, he strode over to me and sat down.

“How do you deal with it?” he asked, tears began to cascade down his cheeks.

“I found something I could occupy my thoughts with,” I answered honestly. “And a friend who was there for me when I needed someone. Hobbies also work.” The two of us continued to talk about pain and coping mechanisms. Sophia sat and listened quietly, eyes occasionally darting to Lucas before shifting away. It was clear she fancied him. Lucas didn’t see it, but now wasn’t the time.

The bell for first period rang soon enough. The throng of bodies shifted with increased vigor. The milling about yielded to the necessity of being on time to class, for most of us anyways. I had the luxury of meeting with a counselor to discuss my future prospects.

“Hey, Will,” Lucas called out to me before I left. “Do you have someone else you like? To replace your ex?” _Do I have someone I like?_ It was a question I hadn’t entertained much. I had more pressing matters to contend with before finding another girlfriend. Images of Phaal passed through my mind. I shook away that wondering notion. _C’mon Will. She’s a wolf. There’s no guarantee that you’ll be able to permanently shapeshift into a wolf if at all. It’s not like that’s a power she’ll pick up from this bond anyways._

“There might be,” I turned away from him, hiding the rising blush on my cheeks. What was I getting flustered over? Sure she had a strong, attractive personality but it didn’t change the gap separating us. Pushing the flustered wonderings aside I set out for the meeting hoping for a distraction.

“Come in, Will,” Mr. Thorndike beckoned me into his office from behind his aging desk, the sun-bleached wood continued its slow withering to white under the morning rays. “Please sit down,” the young faculty motioned to the twin wooden chairs whose maroon upholstery had long since lost its lustre opposite of his desk. “It’s time we had a talk about your future.”

“If we do, will you give your wife a hand raising your son?” I asked half-teasing after taking a seat in one of the chairs. The frame begrudgingly accepted my weight, never missing a moment to complain whenever I shifted.

“I try to help, but Emily keeps butting in,” Mr. Thorndike whined. “She keeps telling me to change his diapers more than I do, but every time I make the attempt she forces me out of the way because I’m not doing it exactly to her specifications,” the dark haired man threw up his arms. “How can I help Amanda if she won’t let me?”

“I’ll be sure to stress to her that she needs a break and to let you care for your son the next time I see them getting groceries,” I laughed.

“She speaks highly of you,” Mr. Thorndike smiled. I rolled my eyes.

“Doesn’t everyone over the age of thirty?”

“Have you given any thought to what you want to study in college?” The counselor evaded my sarcasm. “It’s a big decision.”

“One that you expect every high schooler to have figured out before they become legal adults,” I had no answers to the questions he was going to ask and wasn’t in the mood to entertain him.

“My, you’ve quite the snark today, Will,” Mr. Thorndike mused. “You know that this is meant to be a helpful discussion.”

“It doesn’t mean I want to like it,” I muttered, eyes askance. Thoughts of Phaal continued to invade my focus. If anything bled over to her, she made no point of saying anything about it.

“Do you have any ideas on what you want out of the rest of your life?” the counselor asked anyways. “It doesn’t have to be college. We have twenty minutes and I won’t be letting you go early, so you might as well say something to pass the time.”

“College is the next step, is it not?” I sighed. It was better to pass the time entertaining him than sitting here in absolute boredom. “Aren’t we all supposed to go to college, find internships, and then land some sweet white collar job?”

“Not everyone needs to follow that path,” Mr. Thorndike countered. “Society still needs electricians and other essential roles filled.”

“I don’t see myself working a trade or the soul-crushing work of retail,” I groused.

“Early childhood education and development or middle school counseling, then?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

“Sophia Rivers speaks very highly of you,” Mr. Thorndike smirked. “It seems you’ve done her a great service in helping her adjust to a new town and new school. I think you could do a lot of good helping others like her.”

“One instance of helping an underclasswoman is a poor indicator of career aptitude,” I rolled my eyes. “You should remember your own advice.”

“Need I remind you that you have helped her on multiple occasions?” Mr. Thorndike raised a knowing eyebrow. “What about the young man you gave advice to this morning about handling a breakup?”

“I only helped him because I saw him suffering like I was, am,” my gaze drifted away from the counselor to the rising sun the antiquated window. “He was so heartbroken to lose his girlfriend for some reason she refused to divulge. I couldn’t ignore his pain,” my words softened to a whisper. “It hurts too much when you have no one to lean on.” A tender silence fell between us. Nothing forced, but it was right to follow. Thoughts of Phaal insisted on filing my mind. _I wonder how she’s doing._

“Hang on,” I sat up. “How did you know about that and still beat me here?”

“I don’t make a habit of eavesdropping on private conversations,” the counselor deadpanned. “I spotted you talking to him on my way to my office. But on a similar note, how are you dealing with your breakup?” Mr. Thorndike snapped me away from my wayward wondering. “Do you have someone to lean on?”

“I do actually,” I couldn’t help but smile. “She has been a great help.”

“Not a rebound, I hope,” the counselor frowned. “Throwing yourself at someone else isn’t the right way to handle a breakup.” I shook my head.

“Just a new friend,” I assured.

“Just a friend?” Mr. Thorndike asked in that smug, wondering tone.

“Just a friend,” I reiterated, leaning back in my seat. _It’s not like I can date a wolf. Society won’t accept that. But… if I was able to become a wolf, then I guess I could live like one, or she becomes human._ I shook my head wildly. _That’s probably not gonna happen._

“You alright?” Mr. Thorndike asked, eyes full of concern.

“I’m fine,” I nodded. “I was just dismissing a ridiculous thought, but I should get going,” I pointed to the clock, standing swiftly. “Our time’s up and I need to get my next class.”

“Yo, wait up, Will,” David raced up to me as I forced my way through a coalescing crowd of students obstructing the hallway. “You got a minute?”

“So long as I don’t miss the bus,” I shrugged. “I need to grab groceries for the coming week.”

“Still haven’t gotten a parking space yet?” the swimmer sighed.

“Nope, I’ve begun to wonder if my suspension affected my position on the waitlist.”

“Well, this shouldn’t take long,” David waved wildly at someone in front of us before pulling me along to meet said person. “I just want to introduce you to Faith.”

Faith Granwell watched us approach from our usual hangout. Blonde hair cut short in the back with her ears covered by bangs and whipped her face as she looked around for us, eyes darting through the crowd frantically. Her search ended with us more or less standing before her, recoiling slightly before realizing who we were. A brittle sigh of relief escaped her as she bolted into David’s arms, sheltering her. The two stood in silence for a time, unspoken words passing between them. _I should have guessed._

The two struck up a conversation that I had no hope of understanding, hands moving calmly or wildly. ASL certainly carried an emotional body language that was hard to catch at first glance. Faith’s wide eyes and frantic gestures slowly disappeared with each calm and tender word David made. My friend motioned to me once she calmed down. “This is my friend, William Hunter,” David introduced me with both hand and spoken word. “Will, this is Faith Granwell.” I offered a deep bow, unsure how else to convey my pleasure meeting her face to face. Faith matched my bow with one of her own.

She began speaking, rather signing, at me, hands dancing from one word to the next. “It’s nice to meet you, Will,” David translated for me. “My…” he cleared his throat, “boyfriend speaks highly of you.” I turned to a reddening face.

“Boyfriend?” I raised an eyebrow at David. Perhaps it wasn’t nice to feign ignorance, but I didn’t want to derail any plans they had.

“She asked me out a week ago,” he answered, flushed cheeks on full display. I knew the smile on my face didn’t reach my eyes. I was happy for them, but I couldn’t help but be reminded of my former relationship with Claire. I wanted her back. No. I just wanted to stop hurting. Perhaps everything else going on exacerbated the pain, but it was proving slow to heal. A fact proven by the pang of jealousy streaking through my mind. Despite having found us, Faith continued to scan the crowd wildly. The look in her eyes suggested she was afraid of something, but if it was crowds David wouldn’t have had us meet here. Whatever she feared she found and darted behind David.

David and I followed her gaze as she cowered behind her boyfriend. _Great._ Michael Whitethorn pushed his way through the crowd to meet us, not caring about who or what he sent to the floor. “Hey, Faith,” the prick not bothering to acknowledge either of us, instead calling out to Faith. “I want an answer.” The blonde in question did nothing to respond to the question she couldn’t hear. Faith didn’t need to hear him to be terrified. David’s stance alone said everything. She was the next person he was interested in.

“What do you want, Whitethorn?” David barked. Michael rolled his eyes.

“I’m not talking to you,” he snarled, circling around trying make eye contact with Faith. “I’m talking to her.” David kept himself between the two, shielding his girlfriend from her harasser.

“Where’s Zoe?” I spoke up. My gut had a clear answer, but I wanted to hear it from him.

“Dunno,” Michael dismissed, still trying to get a fix on Faith. “Don’t care either.”

“Again?!” I shouted, approaching the salacious bastard. “How many does this make?”Something lit a fire under my ass. It wasn’t a well kept secret that Michael had an aggressive side but it never infuriated me this much before. The jock ignored my questions, still circling. A scant crowd had formed around us, but most of the other students steered clear of the school’s biggest bully. “At least tell me this, is she alright?”

“Why do you care?” Michael laughed. “Do you need that hole in your heart filled that badly?” He scoffed. “You’re wasting your time. I’ve done everyone a favor,” I had no physical evidence, but the audacious glint in his eyes said everything everyone feared. _The rumors are true._ “Stand aside, Nature Boy,” the jock barked. “This doesn’t involve you.”

I didn’t want to get in a fight, that notion alone almost froze my legs, but I couldn’t let David get in a fight either, not when any punishment would be laid out unfairly. A rising anger kept my body in motion, moving with the hunter seeking his next victim. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Should I care?” Michael snickered. My rage boiled over in the face of his violent apathy.

“Salacious prick,” I snarled as I approached him. “What gives you the right to—” a hard punch knocked me to the floor. Gasps and murmurs ran through the still thin crowd. A sip of copper coated my tongue amid the heightened pounding in my chest. Something in the back of my mind kept focusing on my name while I processed what happened. Cracking knuckles brought my focus away from the sudden act back to my attacker.

“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” Michael glowered at me. He crept toward me, ready to hit me again. Fear kept my body rigid. I couldn’t run and the something in my head grew ever louder. “It’s time I put the do-gooder Nature Boy in his place,” the looming bully towered above me. Fear locked me in place, nothing I said to myself convinced my body to move. The only thing I could do, was close my eyes and wait for the beating to end.

Except it never came. All that happened was the thud of another person falling to the floor followed by the gasps of an awestruck crowd. Having mustered up the courage to open my eyes, I found Michael on the ground with a hand to his face, eyes wide and locked on his attacker.

 _“WILL!”_ Phaal’s voice thundered in my head. _“Please answer me, Will.”_

 _“I’m fine, Phaal,”_ I answered her. _“It’s just the school bully.”_ The wolf sighed.

_“Please don’t scare me like that. I thought a Pelter attacked you.”_

“What the hell was that for?” Michael’s bellowing brought me back to the situation at hand. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Whoever you are has no bearing on the fact you are attacking fellow students,” my defender, a female, deadpanned. “Your victim had no desire to fight and you hit him all the same. Bullies like you deserve to be put in your place.” She stood slowly, fists clenched. Michael couldn’t tear his fear soaked face from his assailant. “Never do this again to anyone else, _understood_?” The venom in her words drove the bully off altogether, thus ending the whole ordeal. “I hate bullies,” the young woman standing above me sighed. “Are you alright?” She asked as she turned to me, hand extended.

“Yeah,” I grunted, taking her head. My defender pulled me up with ease. “Thank you,” it was all I could manage as the events I just went through all caught up to me.

“Don’t mention it,” my rescuer shook her head. “I’m just glad I could…” her words drifted away as our eyes locked. _Impossible._ The girl standing was my height. Ebony, shoulder-length hair dangled in well defined curls, the same curls that my hair would have when I grew it out. Emerald eyes gleaming in disbelief mirrored my own. It was her. There was no mistaking it. “…Will?” My name the faintest of whispers on her lips.

“Lina…?” I could hardly believe it. “Is it really you?” My twin nodded. We leapt into each other’s arms without so much as a warning. Laughter infected our shock and joy, much to the confusion of everyone else. “What the hell are you doing here, Lina?” I had to know what brought my sister back into my life.

“Saving you again, apparently” my twin laughed. “But in actuality I’m transferring to school here. It was the only one that would take me on such short notice. I can’t believe it,” she pulled me into another embrace. “It’s really you,” tears fell from her cheeks and mine amid our persisting embrace. The crowd dispersed as the action was over, leaving us a chance to revel in our reunion, until a sudden cough broke it up.

“Are you going to introduce us?” David interrupted, Faith peering at us around her shield.

“Y-yes,” I snapped myself into focus. “David, Faith, this is my twin sister.”

“Hello,” Lina bowed as I gestured to her. “My name is Marcelina Hunter. M-a-r-c-e-l-i-n-a,” she didn’t miss a beat when David stumbled trying to spell her name for Faith. “Please call me Lina.”

“Nice to meet you,” the two of them bowed. The surrounding students finally began to murmur about what they witnessed. “We better make ourselves scarce,” David motioned us through the crowd. “Some of us do need to catch the bus.”

“I can drive you home,” Lina chirped. “It’ll be a tight fit with my things, but we can make it work.” The swimmer threw is girlfriend a look and conveyed the offer. Faith chewed on the idea as we walked to the bus loop. She stopped David outside her bus, rigid movements constructing words only David could understand. Lina shared my wondering expression as formal and stiff motions danced alongside unsteady fingers. Faith looked as if she was pleading with David while he was doing all he could to keep her calm. Eventually, my friend nodded then turned to us.

“We’ll take the bus,” he said, making no motion to leave his girlfriend alone.

“Okay,” Lina nodded.

“See you later,” I waved to them as they boarded the bus. “Where are you staying?” I asked Lina as we made our way to her car, making our way to the visitor’s lot on the other side of the school.

“I made plans to stay at a B&B for a while, in case I needed to move again,” my twin shook her head. “But those plans fell through last minute.”

“You can stay with us,” I dropped all pretense of concealing my excitement. “Mom would love to have you,” my feet stopped once I realized Lina wasn’t walking. I turned back to her to find my sister locked in shock. “Lina?”

“Mom’s,” Lina swallowed hard, “alive…?”

“Yeah…” I nodded. _Just what lies has she been told?_ “You didn’t know?”

“D-Dad said she died in an accident shortly after the divorce,” she whispered. “You as well. But that’s clearly wrong,” Lina nodded, a single tear graced the edge of her smile. “Yes. I’d love to stay with you and Mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand we're back. Sorry about the delay. Editing this chapter has been a nightmare and I've been waylaid by a side project and life always finds a way to meddle with things. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and look forward to more. -DA139


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